


Crash Pad

by sinemoras09



Series: Birdsong [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Drawer Fic, Female Senju Hashirama, Fish out of Water, Genderbending, Historical Figure Wakes Up in Modern Times, Other, Post-Canon Fix-It, Redemption, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, babies ever after, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 69
Words: 41,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: Hashi and Madara become roommates after the Fourth Shinobi War; Obito becomes Hokage and Rin is resurrected. Post-canon. AU, crack. Female Hashirama/Madara, Obito/Rin in later chapters.Birdsonguniverse. Complete.
Relationships: Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Madara & Uchiha Obito
Series: Birdsong [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653751
Comments: 279
Kudos: 60





	1. Part I: The Modern Era

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly cracky oneshots and drabbles in the same universe. Divided into three parts.
> 
> For anyone who follows this series: this has the same backstory as the fic [Birdsong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/759922), but is different from the fic [Windfall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095915/chapters/55255120), which was an AU happy ending where Hashi and Madara get married. In here, the schism stands as it was in the manga. This takes place in present-day Konoha after the events in the final Shippuden arc :)
> 
> Note: for the most part this fic is rated T - mature and explicit chapters are clearly marked. Also, some Obito-related chapters were posted as separate fic before, but since they belong to the same headcanon I included them here for completeness' sake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part I: Madara gets used to the modern era.

He's standing in front of the refrigerator.

Hashi watches as Madara opens the door, his eyes widening slightly at the sudden burst of bright light and cold air. He closes the fridge again, then opens it. Closes it. Opens it. Then he moves to the freezer and does the same thing. She watches as he picks up a tray of ice cubes wonderingly.

"Isn't it amazing?" Hashi says, and Madara turns. "To harness all the seasons of nature? They even have something called a 'microwave.' Oh, and look at this!" Hashi says, as Madara tilts his head and closes the freezer. She runs across the room.

Light suddenly fills the entire room, flooding the kitchen. Madara jumps back, his Sharingan reflexively activated. "What the devil--"

"It's an electric light!" Hashi says.

"Impossible. It is nighttime, the sun has already set--"

"They harness energy called 'electricity' and they have these man-made lamps they can turn on and off at will. Isn't that amazing?"

Madara gazes up at the fluorescent light, wonderingly.

She had brought him back to life in the ruins of the battlefield. He was dying, the power of the Ten-Tailed Beast forcibly ripped from him, when Hashi knelt beside him and heard his confession. "War buddies, huh?" Madara said. His lips were chapped and his eyes were losing focus. He smiled. "Well. I guess...that's okay...by..."

He sighed softly, closing his eyes.

It happened almost as a reflex: head bowed, her hand resting on Madara's chest, her chakra flowed into his body, the internal flame of his chakra roaring back to life. Even now, Madara can feel her chakra flowing inside him - a yellow warmth, which mixes and strengthens his own.

"This is even better," Hashi says, and she grabs his hand. Madara's eyes widen as she yanks him forward, pulling him into a small room.

"This is the bathroom," she says, and she flips on the light switch. The room fills with electric sunlight, the ceramic tiles gleaming like something from heaven. He can see a porcelain bowl sequestered at the edge of the room.

"This is called a toilet," Hashi says. She lifts the lid.

"Do we dip our hands in the water?" Madara asks. Hashi grins at him and pushes down a small lever.

The sound makes Madara jump back. Water gets sucked down the drain like a violent whirlpool. Hashi laughs. "Isn't this amazing? You do your daily ablutions and then flush it all away--"

"Impossible. You mean to tell me--"

"You pee here!" Hashi says, triumphant, and Madara stares, awestruck at the wonders of this modern age.

*****

There is a small electric fan propped up on a nightstand by the window. Madara crouches in front of it, staring into the white blades, which whirl at a rapid pace. The wind it generates is warm and it feels nice against his hair and skin.

"Did you know they have something called 'air conditioning?'" Hashi says. She's just taken a shower - a wonderous, man-made waterfall, which one can control with the turning of a knob-like lever - and she's drying her hair with a towel. She's also wearing modern pajamas, which look little more than a white-robed shitagi, but is actually what she calls a "T-shirt." She towels her hair, thoughtfully. "I couldn't figure out how to install it, though, and the fan seemed to be sufficient."

Madara glances back at her. Her legs are bare. He frowns. "Why am I not surprised you've taken to walking around without pants?"

Hashi glances down. "Oh. I'm wearing shorts."

Madara frowns. "'Shorts'?"

"Um. They're like pants but cut off at the thighs," Hashi says. She lifts up her T-shirt, showing him. "Wanna see something else?"

"What?" Madara says, and she opens the closet, pulling out a pair of boots and a flak jacket.

"Their standard shinobi uniform," Hashi says, tossing it to him. Madara catches the flak jacket expertly. He turns it over in his hands. "They call this 'body armor,'" Hashi says. "They're lighter than our plate metal, but they're stronger than anything we could ever forge. And look at these shoes," Hashi says, handing him a pair of boots. "The soles are made of something called 'rubber.' They cushion more and they keep you from slipping. Remember how we'd have to use chakra to keep our stances from sliding? The shinobi of this time don't have to do things like that anymore."

Madara scoffs. "It is no wonder it was so easy to beat them," Madara says. Hashi tilts her head. "When I was first summoned," Madara says. "I alone went against the shinobi alliance. It was laughable."

"Certainly the shinobi of this time don't know much hardship," Hashi says. She combs her hair, thoughtfully. "But still. Many lived through war. Many lost loved ones. They suffer equally, even if their challenges aren't as difficult as ours."

Madara sighs. "Once again with your empathy and compassion. You could at least take some satisfaction in knowing this generation is much softer than ours."

"Mm. True," Hashi says. "But that was the goal of our village, no?"

There is an amiable silence. Madara watches as Hashi sits next to him, drawing her knees to her chest and pointing the fan in her direction.

"How is it that you're able to afford these things?" Madara says. "Surely these are luxuries - we've only been resurrected for a few weeks."

"Oh! I've been working as a jounin. I've already done a handful of missions."

"Really, now?"

Hashi grins. "The civilians outside the shinobi world didn't even know we were in a war! There's still S-class missions, all of them fairly easy. I already made a year's worth in a few weeks."

"I see. Impressive."

"They're willing to work with you, too," Hashi says. "Naruto-kun already explained to them how you were being manipulated."

"Naruto - you mean the Uzumaki brat whose voice hasn't yet broken."

"Mm." Hashi nods, smiling at the fan. "For all your crimes, they've decided ultimately it wasn't your fault. That young man you mentored, Obito, was it? He's been granted amnesty, too."

"I thought he died," Madara says. Hashi grins.

"I gave him some of my chakra, too."

"And so I see you were healing everybody." Madara sighs. "How troublesome." Hashi grins and rubs her neck.

"Hashirama," Madara begins, and then hesitates. "Why did you bring me back? We were dying. And the others had already won the war."

Hashi seems to ponder his question. She smiles, looking out the window. "I thought you deserved a second chance."

"And the leaders of the shinobi alliance allowed it?"

"Well I am stronger than them," Hashi says. Madara raises his eyebrows. She smiles. "Your chakra was fading. I infused it with my own and brought you here. Jutsus aside, we're both relics, completely out of our element. I convinced them to let me be your keeper."

Madara looks at her doubtfully.

*****

The apartment they're staying in is a small one - simply furnished, and provided by Tsunade-Hime herself. "Oh, Tsunade-dono, this really isn't necessary," Hashi said, but Tsunade waved her hand.

"I couldn't just let you wander the streets, that'd be unconscionable."

"At least allow me to pay for rent," Hashi said, but Tsunade grunted and waved her hand.

Now they walk down the street outside their apartment, heading toward the village square. The sun is setting, and everything is cast in a soft orange light.

"Uchiha?" The merchant looks at Hashi and Madara, completely unaware of who they are. He scratches his chin, thinking. "Ah, I think the Uchiha quarter is that way. But you're not going to find anything," the merchant says. "Most of that stuff's already torn down."

"Thank you," Hashi says. She glances at Madara, who doesn't say anything.

They walk past the Uchiha ghetto, at the crumbling walls and the faded Uchiha crest painted on the brick. They stop and stand at the base of the wall.

"So it was my fault my fears about the Uchiha came to pass," Madara says, finally. "A regrettable outcome of this whole mess. To think in the end, I was just being manipulated....I couldn't have imagined."

"You couldn't have known. You did what you believed was right--"

"--and apparently I was being controlled by some entity biding its time centuries before me. It is humiliating."

"It's the reason why this generation has decided to give you amnesty," Hashi says. Madara glares.

"Because they felt sorry for me."

Hashi smiles apologetically. "Well..."

"Uchiha Madara does not need their pity," Madara says. He picks up a rock, then tosses it at the brick. It crumbles easily.

Hashi gives him a cursory overview of the village - the Nara and the Hyuuga, the Akimichi and the Yamanaka - showing him roughly where the clans congregate, and where they stand amongst the civilians of the city.

"Why are there no Senju?" Madara asks. Hashi shrugs.

"You killed more than half of them at the Valley of the End," Hashi says.

"I don't remember the Senju being so few in numbers," Madara says. "What about the Senju of your family? I understand your children would bear the name of your husband, but what of your useless little brother? Surely he had more than girls."

"I'm not sure when Tobirama's bloodline ended, I think they faded out after a few generations. And I never had any children," Hashi says. Madara's mouth thins.

"That is unfortunate. How did your husband take it?" Madara says. Hashi shakes her head.

"I never married," Hashi says. Madara blinks.

"I thought you were engaged to Uzumaki Makoto?"

"I broke off the engagement after you died." Hashi smiles at him. "I was grieving," she says, gently. "It didn't feel right, getting married. Tobirama married Uzumaki Mito instead."

They both fall silent, neither one of them saying anything.

"What about you? I heard from Uchiha Obito that you kept yourself alive by lashing yourself to the Gedo Mazou."

"Hmph. A temporary measure that proved largely unnecessary."

"You lived in a cave for hundreds of years, alone with only the Zetsus for company." Hashi shakes her head. "I can't imagine it. It seems so lonely." Madara shrugs.

"I was never burdened by your type of useless extroversion." His eyes slide upward. "It must have been tough on you. Never having had a family."

Hashi laughs. "I had a family," Hashi says. "I had Tobirama and my sister-in-law, and all my little nephews and nieces! I taught them how to fight and how to mold chakra."

"Corrupting the youth around you, I see."

"Well I never was a proper lady."

They walk. There's a food stall selling rice balls, and wordlessly Hashi goes and buys one for herself and another for Madara. She hands Madara the rice ball and they eat silently, walking down the street and looking at the different stalls.


	2. Ablutions

Madara decides to take a shower.

He opens the glass door. The shower head sticks out from the ceramic tile; this is where the water comes from. There is a lever and vague instructions to TURN LEFT FOR HOT WATER Hashi had taped onto the wall - presumably she kept forgetting how to operate it.

Madara glances behind his shoulder. The bathroom is locked. The electric light is buzzing above him. He has no qualms washing in the river but the idea of standing naked in a futuristic glass box is unnerving to him.

"Do you need help?" Hashi's voice floats just outside the door.

Madara scowls. "I am fine."

"I put a little sticky note on the handle, the water turns on when you turn it counter-clockwise--"

"I can see that. I am fine."

"Okay." He can hear her footsteps as she walks away from the bathroom.

He pulls off the purple cassock, which drops around his feet.

In the kitchen, Hashi is humming, listening to what they called a "radio" as she washes rice in a black kettle. Tsunade had gifted her with a rice cooker, which is amazing in its simplicity - wash the rice and press a button. Hashi beams. The future is amazing!

In the bathroom, the shower stops. She can hear the sound of a glass door opening, wet feet stepping onto the cool tile.

" _Kuso_. Shit--" Madara's voice, and then the sound of something slipping and a loud thud; the toilet flushes. Hashi walks quickly to the bathroom.

"Madara?" She raps her knuckles against the closed door. "Everything all right?"

"Dammit, Hashirama--"

"Are you trying to use the toilet? Because it's easier to aim if you lift the seat--"

"I am not using the toilet. Go away."

Hashi shrugs and goes back to the kitchen.

The rice cooker is on. A few pieces of salmon are charring beneath the broiler. The door opens from the bathroom.

Hashi is stir-frying vegetables; she looks up briefly and sees Madara furtively pressing a towel to his chest, before disappearing into the bedroom. She goes back to stir-frying.

She hears the bedroom door open. "H-Hashirama?"

"Yes?" Hashi turns.

Madara is sticking his head out of the doorframe. He's still clutching the towel. "I was wondering if you could heal something for me."

"Of course." Hashi wipes her hands and walks toward the bedroom.

Madara is only partially dressed, wearing pants and presumably the underwear she got for him ("Why would you give me this?!" Madara had said, horrified, while Hashi laughed and helpfully reminded him that all he had was his battle gear and a loin cloth). He keeps the towel pressed against his chest, not looking at her.

"What needs healing?" Hashi says. Madara scowls.

"I was hoping you could get rid of this." He lowers the towel. The weird Hashirama-face lies flat on his chest like a smashed bug, its eyes closed in a preternatural calm.

Hashi blinks. "Oh. Yeah, of course."

"It won't be too difficult?"

"I mean, I could just cut it off..." they both stare at the cartilage of the nose and how the chin seems to jut out in three dimensions. Madara clears his throat, his face twisted into an embarrassed glare.

"Um. I think it'd be easier if you sat down," Hashi says, and Madara quickly sits, not looking at her. He's scowling hard, a bright blush cracking across his cheeks. Hashi pushes down the urge to make fun of him, then lifts her hand. A wave of blue chakra forms like a scalpel.

The thing - transplant? Cell bloc? _Her face?_ \- falls onto the floor, then immediately shrivels, involuting into an indistinguishable pile of ash. The wound on Madara's chest quickly heals, the skin knitting and leaving a healthy scar, which is translucent and pink.

"Thank you," Madara says, and he doesn't look at her, "for not mentioning this."

"Ah, no problem," Hashi says, and she heads back to the kitchen, leaving him in the bedroom.


	3. Ablutions, part 2

They're sitting in the living room trying to figure out how to install the air conditioner. Hashi turns a page to the instruction manual.

"So...did you ever, like, talk to it, or...?"

"Dammit, Hashirama!"

"I wasn't making fun of you! I was just wondering if it could talk...?"

A beat. And then,

"No, Hashirama, it didn't talk."


	4. Escort

"I am being guarded," Madara's eyes narrow, "by a prepubescent little boy?"

"Oi! I'm not prepubescent, dattebayo! I'm just as tall as Sasuke is, and--"

"Quiet," Madara says, and Hashi laughs behind them.

"Sorry," Hashi says. "They say he's the strongest shinobi in all the five villages. He's even stronger than their kage."

"More proof that this generation is laughable."

"Dammit, Old Man Madara! You're just a grouchy old man with bags under your eyes, dattebayo!"

"And apparently he's not too observant," Madara says.

She's visiting Tsunade again, this time to notify her of Madara's presence. Craning her neck at the tall walls of the Hokage palace, she motions to Madara to follow her as they step through the gates. The double doors open and Tsunade comes striding down the hall.

"Grandmother!" Tsunade comes up to Hashi, her Hokage robes fluttering as she walked.

Hashi throws her arms around her. "Finally, a proper reunion!" Hashi says. She hugs Tsunade and pulls back, looking at her. "You look just like Mito!" Hashi says. Tsunade's eyes light up.

"I take after Great Grandmother?"

"The spitting image!" Hashi says. "All you need is red hair."

In the back, Madara stands with his arms crossed, watching everything unfold. Around him, Konoha guards stand, trembling a bit in his periphery. Madara smirks. Good. He should inspire fear in others. The guards whisper amongst themselves while Hashi and Tsunade keep chatting. "Please, don't call me 'grandmother,' it makes me feel so old! Physically we're the same age," Hashi says.

Tsunade laughs. "I'll have you know I'm already well into my sixties."

"You're using your healing ability to maintain your youth?"

Tsunade grins. "Is that vain of me?" she asks. Hashi laughs.

"I did the same thing!" Hashi says, and she clasps Tsunade's hand. "Please. Call me 'nee-san,' if you call me anything."

"Hashirama-neesan."

"Hai!"

Madara sighs heavily.

"I don't see the point of this," Madara says. They're leaving the Hokage palace, Hashi and Madara walking side-by-side while Naruto cheerfully follows them. "The mission they assigned us could just as well be covered by chuunin. This is a waste of our skills and our time."

"Just think of it as part of your reintegration," Hashi says. "You've been comatose for almost a month, now. Even in the best of times, it'd be difficult reintegrating into the village."

Madara glowers. Hashi smiles.

"Ne, Hashirama-neesan!" Naruto jogs up next to them, pushing between Hashi and Madara. Madara gives him an irritated look but Naruto barrels forward: "I heard from Tobirama-san that you created Sexy No Jutsu!"

"I did!" Hashi says, and Madara rolls his eyes. "Do you want to see?"

"Yeah I do!"

Hashi claps her hands.

A puff of smoke, and Madara is suddenly standing next to the broad-shouldered, overly-muscled dunderhead counterpart of his friend. "How is this?" Hashirama says, and his voice booms as he throws his head back and laughs magnificently.

"Whoa! You're taller than Madara-ojiichan!"

"Of course! I'm the epitome of manhood!"

"Wanna see mine?" Naruto says, and he claps his hands before Hashirama answers.

POOF. A puff of pink smoke dissipates around them, and Naruko winks at Hashirama seductively.

"Ooh! Sexy!" Hashirama says. Madara claps his hand over his face while Naruko twirls and grins.

"There's even cat ears!" Naruko says. Her yellow pigtails bounce as she talks.

They walk, Hashi and Naruto laughing and chatting in front. Madara trails behind them like an irritated shadow.


	5. Sports Bra

"Tsunade-chan, may I ask you something?" Hashi says. Tsunade lifts her head.

"Of course. What is it?" Tsunade says. Hashi gestures toward her chest.

"How do you fight with those boobs?"

"Wha--" Tsunade blinks. Hashi tilts her head, staring at Tsunade's chest the way an adolescent boy would. "I wear a sports bra," Tsunade says.

Hashi tilts her head. "Sports...bra?"

Tsunade gestures. "It's a kind of elastic cloth that holds things in place." Hashi's eyes widen.

"Really? It's a piece of cloth? May I see it? Oh wow, this is amazing! Ooh and it's so pretty with the lace, you really fight in this?"

Tsunade waves her hand. "This is a normal one. Give me a minute to finish these documents and I'll help you shop for some."

*****

"Madara!" Hashi says, and Madara looks up. "Look at what I'm wearing!" and she rips open the front of her shirt to show him.

Madara jumps back. "Woman, what are you--"

"It's a sports bra! Isn't it great? Now things won't jiggle when I move!"

"Why are you telling me this? Why must you always treat me like another woman, I do not want to hear about this!"

"Wow, you're turning red, you know women of this time exercise wearing only this? I'm not even wearing the lacy ones--"

"DAMMIT."

"Oof, there he goes," Hashi says, as she sees Madara go to his room and slam the door.


	6. Accidental Summons

Madara has come back from a mission - one of the first where Hashi wasn't supervising him. ("If I had known the brat would be my warden," Madara said, and he narrowed his eyes at Gai and Naruto, "I would have refused to leave my room.")

Now Madara is back, irritated and patting his pockets for his keys. Then he remembers the only keys he has are to the mailroom, there isn't a normal lock on a door, but a numerical keypad.

"Dammit." He takes off his glove and mashes his finger on the buttons, pressing in the code.

" _Wrong. Number. Please try. Again._ "

"What?" Madara presses the numbers again. The lock beeps at him. "Dammit."

He bangs his fist on the door. "Hashirama. I'm locked out."

He can hear her scurrying around the living room. "Um! Just a second--"

Something crashes. Madara raises his eyebrows as he listens to the thudding of her footsteps. She flings open the door, then closes it behind her.

"Uh." Hashi blocks the door frame with her body. "What, what are you...uh. What are you doing here?"

Madara's eyes narrow. "I live here."

"I know that! I mean, wow, you're back from your mission so quickly--"

"It was a fool's errand. Why they needed three of us is beyond me." Madara tries to look behind her. "Why are you blocking the door?"

"What? Blocking? Oh! Ha ha! I'm not blocking anything--" she inches around the door frame.

Something clatters. Madara looks behind her. "What was that?"

"Nothing! Just, uh. Rats, maybe? Lots of little rats--"

"We don't have rats, someone is there." Madara activates his Sharingan.

Hashi throws up her hands. "Wait wait wait, don't go in, I can explain--"

Madara throws open the door.

Izuna is squatting in the living room, trying to walk with a chair tied to his hands and back with Hashi's Wood-Style Jutsu.

*****

Hashi and Tsunade were drinking, which is how it all started.

"So, uh, Tsunade-chan and I were talking about the whole Reanimation Jutsu thing, and how that snake guy improved it over Tobirama, and we started wondering if someone who has the Mokuton could do it better, and--"

They glance over at Izuna, who growls in the chair.

"I, uh, thought I'd try it? I didn't think it would actually work," Hashi says. Izuna bangs his foot against the chair.

"What the fuck, Nii-san?!" Izuna says. His skin is cracking and his sclera's black. Madara rushes over and starts untying him. "That Senju bitch kidnapped me! Aren't you going to do something?"

"Why did you tie him up?!" Madara says. Hashi spreads her hands.

"He attacked me with a katon - he almost set the apartment on fire!"

Goddammit. Madara takes a breath. He unties the knots around Izuna's arms, the ropes going slack and dropping to the floor.

"Where are we?" Izuna says, standing. He rubs his wrists, looking around. "This place looks like something from the gods."

"It's an apartment." Madara's eyes narrow. "That idiot Senju summoned you."

*****

Uchiha Izuna looks around the apartment, awestruck.

He touches a light switch. Reverently, he flips the switch on, then off, astounded by the miracle before him. Modern nin can control sunlight. They can sequester winter climates and create ice. They have gleaming metal tools for cooking and a mysterious box that heats up food.

There was too much to explain, so Madara took a shortcut and genjutsu'd Izuna, pouring in his memories of everything that happened. "What do you remember?" Madara asks. Izuna shakes his head.

"I remember telling you to take my eyes. And then I woke up here." He turns and glares at Hashi, who's perched on the couch, anxiously. "She smells of sake. We should take her now while she's intoxicated."

"Um, I can't get drunk, my healing powers kick in," Hashi says. Madara motions for her to shut the hell up. 

"Why is my skin cracking?" Izuna says. A piece of skin flakes off his eyebrow. "What's wrong with my eyes? Why can't I feel anything?"

"From what I gather, your soul is tethered to that body, which isn't real," Madara says. He crosses his arm. "It seems Hashirama used a wood clone to house you."

"Okay, so why the hell are you living with her? Don't tell me," a look of disgust crosses Izuna's face, "you've consummated your relationship with her."

"Wait, what?" Hashi says, while Madara bolts upright, "Izuna!"

"Oh, I see. I think I understand the situation." Izuna scratches his chin, nodding. "Do not worry, Elder Brother. I won't tell that Senju cow how you're secretly in love with her."

"DAMMIT."

"Oh. I shouldn't have said that last part," Izuna says. "We should just genjutsu her so she'll forget this conversation."

Madara throws Hashi a horrified look. Hashi waves her hand.

"Don't worry, don't worry. Tobirama says the same thing, I know he's just making fun of you."


	7. High Stakes Negotiations

"Ne." Hashi raps her knuckles against the bathroom door. "Are you done with the shower yet?"

Izuna's voice floats through the steamy bathroom. "I'm washing my hair."

"Your hair's not even that long, how long are you gonna be in the shower?"

The door opens. Hashi starts, coming face to face with Izuna, who has a towel wrapped around his head like a turban. A cloud of steam billows out from behind him. His eyes narrow. "What."

Hashi gestures. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Well why don't you go piss in the plants, then." Izuna shuts the door again. Hashi bangs on the door.

"Dammit, Izuna! I need to pee! I've been holding it for almost an hour now!" She whirls around toward Madara. "Can't you talk to him?"

Madara shrugs. "Izuna has always been very clean," Madara says.

Hashi screws her face up. Her hands clench into fists.

Izuna is lathering up with raspberry-scented shampoo when the door explodes, and Hashi stalks angrily into the bathroom and yanks down her pants. Izuna screeches.

"Nii-san! She's peeing in front of me!"

Madara's voice is sharp, coming from the hallway. "Well what the hell do you want me to do about it?"

"Ahh." Hashi flushes the toilet, beaming. "Thanks, Little Brother. Enjoy your shower." And she washes her hands with a suspicious air of victory, before swanning out of the bathroom, stepping through the hole in the bathroom door.


	8. Chaperone

"Apparently I'm cursed to be surrounded by idiots," Madara says to Hashi, when he sees that once again he's being chaperoned by Gai and Naruto.

"Yo!" Naruto says, and Gai gives him a hearty salute. Madara sighs heavily.

They walk down the forest path, Gai spouting ridiculous platitudes while the Uzumaki brat laughs and nods excitedly. It makes sense that he's paired up with them: Might Gai was the only shinobi who managed to injure him, and the Naruto kid's strength rivaled that of the current generations' kage - which doesn't say much, but the fact remains.

The dirt path is dappled with yellow sunlight. The rubber soles of their shoes make soft scuffing sounds as they walk, while birds sing in the trees. It's unseasonably warm, and even though Hashirama had insisted he wear the standard shinobi uniform - _"it's moisture wicking, the fabric will keep you cool instead,"_ \- he didn't listen to her, and now he's sweating uncomfortably in his purple cassock, the thick fabric of his collar sticking to the skin of his neck. Quietly he takes off his gloves and stuffs them in his pack, a wretched concession of weakness. Fortunately his two guards are too dimwitted to notice.

"Oh, look! It's Kakashi-sensei! And look, there's my dad!" Naruto says, and Madara looks up and sees Obito being similarly chaperoned, flanked by Kakashi and Minato as they walk toward them.

"Yo," Kakashi says, as they pass. Minato's eyes close into pleasant half-moons as he smiles at Naruto. Obito keeps staring straight ahead of them.

Madara sighs. Somehow it's even more depressing seeing his protégé similarly neutered.

"Yo, Bushy-Eyebrows-sensei! We should do push-ups after the mission, dattebayo!"

Madara glances up at Obito. Obito shrugs.


	9. Hospital

The first thing he was aware of was the pain. Pain in his chest, in his throat and his arms and legs. His lungs burned. Slowly, his eyes blinked open, and he saw a blank white space, blurry images, something beeping in the background. He was on his back; he jerked his arm upward only to find his wrists were restrained. There was something hard and stiff shoved deep in the back of his throat, air being forced into his lungs, making him cough and gag.

He tried to move his sluggish body, disoriented and pulling against the restraints. In the distance he thought he could hear someone talking. A soft, warm hand on his forearm. It startled him. The beeping in the background grew faster.

What the hell was this? What the hell was going on? His last memory was of lying on his back and talking to Hashirama. He was dying. He thought he actually died...

One forceful thrust of his arm, and the restraints snapped. Someone tried to hold his arm but he pushed them back. He could hear footsteps running toward him as he wrapped his hands around the tube sticking down his throat and _yanked_. There was the sound of air sputtering, vent alarms going off wildly. The tube slid out of his mouth with a sickening pop, and Madara gasped, struggling to breathe.

"Madara. Madara!" Someone smacked him on the back, helping him as he coughed violently. "Easy, easy. You're in the hospital. You were on a breathing machine."

Madara's eyes slid upward, his Sharingan active. And soon he was able to focus on Hashirama's face.

*****

He walked around in a daze. The hospital confused him. It was different from the convalescent wards where injured shinobi would gather, the healers rubbing herbs and plying chakra to their wounds. He never dreamed that one day the medical arts would be augmented by machines.

"They called it cardiogenic shock. You were bleeding internally from your wounds."

Madara sat at the edge of the bed, palming the incision on his abdomen, listening listlessly while Hashi explained everything to him. He had been unconscious but his heart was still beating. She kept him tethered by her chakra, keeping him from dying.

The kage debated whether or not they should kill him. There wasn't a prison that could hold him. He'd be too dangerous to leave alive.

"Let me have him," Hashi said. The other kages looked on as Hashi knelt over Madara's body, one hand pressed flat on his chest. "I'm stronger than him. I will take responsibility for him."

The Raikage pulled out his sword from his back. "This isn't your decision," the Raikage said. He held the sword above Madara's chest.

Hashi grabbed the blade with her hand.

"If you wish to kill him," Hashi said, and her voice dropped, menacingly, "you will have to go through me."

The kages' eyes widened. Hashi stood quietly.

Now she was in his room, arranging a vase of flowers by the window. The sunlight from the window outside filtered through the glass, which refracted like a prism; Madara could see the rainbow-tinged shadows moving on the wall.

"Now that you're awake, you'll probably be discharged soon, and I can take you back to my apartment," Hashi said. She turned the vase to one side, then the other.

Madara looked up. Hashi was standing at the window, her body blocking the sun so that all he could see was a soft orb around her.

"We're officially war buddies! I can't wait to do actual missions with you," she said.

And she smiled at him, sunlight running through her hair.


	10. Territorial Acquisition

Uchiha Izuna is 22 years old. He is the youngest of five brothers. He was the first to awaken the Mangekyou Sharingan.

Uchiha Izuna's skin is peeling. Sloughing, more accurately, from little hairline cracks, and Izuna grimaces a little before rubbing a pat of lotion on his face. The scent is overwhelmingly floral like roses, but it's the only thing keeping him from looking like an undead zombie from the shinobi apocalypse.

Uchiha Izuna is supposed to be dead.

"I don't understand, Nii-san, you said when you were summoned, you had limitless chakra and could do jutsus more powerful than when you were alive! Right now I can barely move," Izuna says, and Madara raises his hands.

"Your body is her wood clone," Madara says. "She's probably put some sort of limiter on you."

"Shit." Izuna slams the bottle of lotion on the counter.

The black sclera unnerves him. Izuna shambles over to a 24-hour convenience store for eye drops, which doesn't help, and ends up buying a pair of sunglasses. They look good on him, and Izuna takes to wearing them even when he's inside the house.

*****

There are seven bottles of hair product on the shelf in front of the mirror. Izuna uncaps one bottle, sniffs it, then rubs a little styling gel in his hands. Outside he hears someone banging on the door.

"Ne! Are you done yet?!" It's that Senju woman. Izuna huffs, irritated. The banging continues. "Can't you style your hair in your room?!"

Izuna ignores her, carefully combing his spikes up, then rubbing his hands on his head for a sexy, tousled look. He puts on his sunglasses and poses in the mirror.

More banging. "Ne--"

Izuna throws open the door.

Hashi steps back, glaring. Her hair is stringy and her face is bare, and she's wearing what they call a "sweatshirt," which is gray and unshapely. 

Ugh. What the hell did his brother see in that stupid potato-face, anyway? Izuna huffs. "You're the one who brought me." Izuna turns, going back to the mirror. "It's your own fault for summoning me."

Hashi ignores him, going for the medicine cabinet. She frowns.

"Did you use all my lotion?"

Izuna ignores her, putting down his comb.


	11. Detergent

In a brightly lit aisle of a grocery store, two Uchiha nin stand in front of a display of laundry detergent, fixed and unmoving as imperial porcelain.

"Liquid. Powder. Single-load packs." Izuna's eyes scan the ingredients on the containers. "This one says it has 'color-safe bleach.' Nii-san. What is 'bleach'?"

"I do not know. I believe it is a substance used in chemical warfare."

"And the civilians use it for laundry?" Izuna frowns. Madara knits his brow.

Madara makes a decisive move: he grabs a red container, something with a blue cap and cheerful letters proclaiming PROCLEAN, FRESH SCENT, and firmly sets it in their cart.

"That's my nii-san!" Izuna says. He pumps his fist. "Always a leader!"

"Hmph."

They push their cart to the shampoo aisle.

This one is even worse than the last: hundreds of bottles, hundreds of scents, countless different formulations. The two Uchiha stare.

"Perhaps we should buy what Hashirama has," Madara says, frowning. Izuna's head snaps upward.

"I would rather die a second painful death than use the same product as that Senju scum."

"Well we must buy something - we've already depleted her stockpile." Madara picks up a bottle. "Perhaps we should pool our resources and buy a bottle that is 'family sized.' This should be enough for the three of us."

"Bullshit." Izuna grabs the bottle from Madara's hand and slams it back onto the shelf.

Down the aisle, Hashi wheels her cart toward them. "You guys okay?"

"We are fine," Madara says, while Izuna spits, "No one asked you." Hashi smiles.

"Oh, you guys getting shampoo?" She wanders over to where they're standing and picks up a bottle. Madara turns.

"Hashirama. How did you know which one to purchase?" Madara asks. Hashi shrugs.

"Generally I just pick the cheapest."

"I see." Madara scans the prices, then picks up the cheapest bottle.

*****

"Hashirama-neechan! You wanna get some ramen?" Naruto says. Hashi beams at him.

"Hai! I love ramen!"

They high-five each other.

Madara sits at the edge of the bar, nursing a paper cup of water and watching with slanted eyes as Hashi laughs and dines with Naruto and his companion - one "Iruka-sensei," some no-named mediocre nin who keeps staring at Hashirama and stuttering like an idiot child.

"Wow," Iruka says, blushing. "You're really pretty in person."

Madara crushes his cup in his fist.

Hashi is about to shovel a chopstick's worth of noodles in her mouth when she catches the scent of something. She sniffs, then leans over toward Iruka.

"You smell really good! What is that?"

"Uh, I think that's my body wash," Iruka says. Hashi takes a big sniff.

"Wow, that's really good! We've been trying to figure out what soap to use. Is that 'Irish Spring'? Waah! I really like that! Oh it smells really really good!"

Madara watches, a predator sizing up its prey, as Hashi laughs and sniffs Iruka's armpit.

*****

"'Irish Spring'?" Izuna stares at the green boxes of soap stacked up on the bathroom counter while Madara stands behind him, his face a perfect mask. "I thought you were only getting the cheap stuff."

Madara sniffs loftily. "In times of war, it is necessary to think like the enemy." Izuna, confused, just nods as if understanding.

"Ah."


	12. Outer Path

"Grandmother. Will you tell us what it was like being a female ninja during your era?" Sakura says. The other kunoichi nod next to her.

Ino and Sakura are sitting in a circle with a few other Konoha kunoichi - Tenten had spotted Hashi sparring and ran over to watch. Hashi laughs, waving her hand.

"Please, call me 'nee-san'! 'Grandmother' makes me feel so old!"

The kunoichi gather. Hashi looks around, seeing a group of eager young faces. Some are weapons users. Others are skilled in the medical arts and still others yet have specialized in certain jutsus. Hashi's chest swells with pride as she looks at all of them.

"You know, back in my time, women weren't allowed to fight." Hashi doodles with a stick in the dirt, drawing a little stick figure woman. She adds long hair and long robes, showing them. "If you were born in a shinobi clan, you were schooled in honey traps. Seductive arts. Poisons. Men of my time used their bodies as a weapon, whereas female nin relied on what was between their legs."

She draws another stick figure, this time with curves like two mirrors of an "S", and she draws a male stick figure lying dead beneath her. "But even so, female nin were rare. Most of us were married off, or bartered for treaties or political unions."

"How did you keep from getting married, Hashi-san?"

Hashi laughs. "I was deemed unmarriageable!"

At the edge of the courtyard, Madara watches. He sees the circle of kunoichi gathering around Hashirama, talking and asking her questions excitedly.

"Who wants to spar?" Hashi says, and Madara sees how all the kunoichi jump up, raising their hands eagerly. Hashi laughs and motions for one of them to take a stance. She's always been like this - teaching the young ones, she is squarely in her element.

More laughter. Hashi claps her hands, and in a puff of smoke transforms into her male form, a towering, masculine Hashirama, whose head is thrown back in a laugh. The other kunoichi giggle, and Madara watches as one by one they clap their hands and try performing their own Sexy no Jutsus.

She doesn't need to transform to fill up the spaces of a room. Madara has seen first hand how Hashi flattens everything with her presence.

"You know, maybe you should get together with the other Uchiha survivors," Hashi says later, when they're left alone in the courtyard. "Maybe someday you can build back up your clan."

Madara frowns. "You make it sound like we're an endangered species that needs to breed."

"I mean no offense." Hashi tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "If only my jutsu could span a wider area. I regret that I wasn't able to resurrect everybody."

"That is something I've been meaning to ask." Madara's eyes slide upward. "I was under the impression that only someone wielding the Rinnegan could perform the Rinne Tensei, and even then only at the cost of their own life. And yet you managed to bring everyone back within your immediate vicinity. How were you able to do that?"

Hashi shrugs. "You don't need the Sharingan to cast genjutsu, nor do katons need an affinity for fire. The eye techniques make it easier, but it can still be done. I create life every time I use the Mokuton. Casting that jutsu felt the same to me as quickly growing a forest of trees."

Madara is quiet. Hashi lifts her face toward a patch of sun, and Madara is struck at how such raw power resides in such a small and unassuming woman.

"Did you learn seduction techniques?" Madara asks. Hashi turns her head. "I overheard your discussion earlier. Were you similarly trained?"

Hashi laughs. "Can you see me seducing anyone?" she says.

"I take that as a 'no,' then."

Hashi laughs again, and Madara watches as her fingertips graze against her skin as she brushes a lock of hair back behind her ear.


	13. Outer Path, part 2

"Wait, she can bring my body back anytime she wants to? Well why the hell hasn't she? Why is she keeping me like a zombie?"

"I assume it is because she was Undead at the time, and had access to unlimited amount of chakra. I don't think she could ordinarily perform that jutsu so easily."

"Well can't she try? My skin is peeling, Nii-san, and I don't like the look of my eyes."

"There is a chance she may die if she attempts a full resurrection."

"And that's a problem, why?"

A beat.

"Nii-san? You're not saying anything."

"I'm not because you're beginning to annoy me."

(In the bedroom, Hashi makes a mental note to tell the boys she can hear them through the walls.)


	14. Intermission

Umino Iruka hovers uncertainly in front of the flower stand next to Naruto's favorite ramen shop. It seems sacrilegious, trying to court one of the founders of Konoha, but Hashi seems just as modern and normal as any of the other kunoichi in the village. 

"Hello, Hashi-san," Iruka greets her politely as she bounds down the steps, dressed like any other modern woman, with a T-shirt and jeans and their forehead protector tied squarely on her forehead.

"Iruka-kun! Ah it's nice to see you again!" Hashi flashes him a bright smile. Iruka blushes and rubs his neck.

"It's nice to see you too," he says stupidly, but Hashi doesn't seem to notice. She waves at him as she skips down the street.

At the ramen bar, Naruto keeps staring at him. His brow is knitted in concentration. Iruka itches uncomfortably, then blows the steam off his soup spoon. Naruto pitches forward.

"Iruka-sensei!" he points, "You have a crush on Hashirama-neechan, dattebayo!"

Iruka nearly falls off his stool. "What?" Iruka says. Naruto points harder.

"I saw how you were looking at her! You were totally making googly eyes, dattebayo!"

"Was it that obvious?" Iruka says, and he sees Naruto nod and he deflates a bit. "Oh no," Iruka says. He holds his head. "Oh no. This is bad. This is really bad. I have a crush on one of the founders of Konoha. How embarrassing. It's like having a crush on a famous pop idol."

Naruto thumps his hand on the counter. "You should ask her out!"

"What?"

"Sensei should totally ask Hashirama-neechan out!" 

"Oh no, Naruto, you see...she's way out of my league, not to mention beautiful and powerful, and--"

"AND she's not dating anyone because she's guarding Old Man Madara, dattebayo!"

Iruka hunches over his ramen bowl. "Naruto this is a bad idea."

"NO, it's a GOOD idea, wait--" Naruto motions toward the street behind him. "I'll ask Fuzzy Eyebrows Sensei and see what he thinks!"

"Wait, you mean Gai--" Iruka looks up and sees Naruto waving at Gai and Lee, motioning them to come forward.

"Ah, Naruto-kun!" Lee says, while Gai grins and walks behind him. "Are you eating ramen?"

Naruto smacks Iruka on the back. "Sensei has a crush on Hashirama-neechan! I thought maybe we could help him."

"Ooooh!" Gai sparkles. "The lady does hold a fierce grip over your tenderloins! I approve of your crush, Umino-kun!"

"Sensei, what are tenderloins?" Lee says. Gai squats down.

"They are the seat of a man's virility!"

"Oh god," Iruka says.


	15. Outer Path, part 3

"Nii-san. What are the hand seals for the Rinne Tensei no Jutsu?"

Madara looks up sharply. "You're going to try to bring yourself back to life?"

"You did it," Izuna says. Madara shakes his head.

"I had the Rinnegan. It is nigh impossible to do without it."

"Well I can't ask _you_ to bring me back, you might die." Izuna frowns. "If that stupid Senju could do it, why can't I? I was the first to awaken the Mangekyou Sharingan, Elder Brother. Of the two of us, my eyes are stronger."

"You really think you can do it?" Madara says. Izuna nods.

"I'm Undead and I have unlimited chakra. And if I play my cards right, I can use that stupid Senju's cells to augment the jutsu."

"Very well," Madara says, and he shows Izuna the hand signs. Izuna's Sharingan turns.

*****

Izuna weaves the signs just as Madara showed him. He claps his hands.

" _Rinne Tensei no Jutsu!_ "

A surge of chakra rushes over him like a crashing wave; there's a bright flash of light, his undead skin cracking and peeling to reveal soft, living flesh. Izuna laughs, feeling the beating of his heart and the blood rushing through his body.

"Yes!" Izuna says. His heart beats faster. "I can feel it, Elder Brother! YES!"

And then his Sharingan starts to crumble.

*****

"What the fuck, Nii-san?! I'm BLIND?!"

In the bedroom next door, Hashi looks up from her book, then silently puts on her headphones.


	16. Sharing is in Sharingan

"Izuna, I'm telling you. Let me give you back your eyes, I'm a better sensor than you."

Madara watches as Izuna holds his hands out, groping his way around the livingroom. He bumps into the corner of their coffee table, then trips over the edge of a rug. Izuna glares.

"I'm not taking back my eyes, Nii-san, I gave them to you."

"Little Brother, you are being foolish," Madara says. "Take back your eyes. It is for your own good."

"What are you doing?" Izuna looks up sharply. "Nii-san! Are you gouging out your eyes?!"

"I'm doing this to help you."

"No, Nii-san! You'll go blind!"

"Then I'll give you just one, and we both can use our sight."

"But then you won't have depth perception and neither will I!"

In the bedroom, Hashi turns a page to her book. She reaches over to her cellphone and turns up the volume.


	17. Nearsight

"We grew these Sharingan eyes using stem cells," Shizune says. She lowers her clipboard. "How are they working?"

Izuna blinks rapidly, trying to adjust. "Everything is blurry at a distance," Izuna says.

"Hm. It's probably the curvature of the lens. We can try using lasers to correct it, but it might affect your ability to use the Sharingan." Shizune smiles. "Why don't you try using glasses?"

"Glasses? What are glasses?" Izuna says.

"Let me show you," Shizune says.

*****

Izuna takes even longer in the bathroom.

"What the hell is he doing?" Hashi says. Madara gestures.

"He's trying to put on contacts."

"Dammit!" Izuna says. The lens slips as he accidentally pokes his finger against his eyeball.


	18. A Dream

"Hashirama. Is that you?"

Madara's voice was thin. Hashi approached him quietly as he lay on his back, battered and broken, bruises and scratch marks marring the skin of his face and chest. She knelt beside him, and she saw his eyes track sluggishly toward hers. He was dying. She knew he wanted to use his last breath to make amends.

"You were always the optimist," he said, and his eyes cracked open. "My dream was crushed, but yours lives on, and is still ongoing."

"We were too hasty," she said. "We didn't need to fulfill our dream ourselves, it was more important to cultivate those who would come after us."

"Which means I would have failed anyway, because I've always hated having someone stand behind me."

His mouth quirked. A ghost of a smile. Hashi felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes as she smiled and leaned closer toward him.

"When we were kids, you once said, 'we're shinobi. We'll never know when we'll die.' That for either side to live, we'd each have to show what's inside of us, and pour a drink and toast as family. But now we're both about to die. Right now, we can drink as war buddies," she said.

"War buddies, huh?" His voice was soft. His eyes were beginning to close. "Well. I guess...that's okay...by..."

His eyes closed. He almost looked like he was just asleep.

At the hospital, she kept vigil by his bedside. Quietly, she'd comb her fingers through his scalp, worrying over superficial scrapes and bruises. Some nights, she'd rest her cheek on his chest, lowering the guardrails to the hospital bed and resting the top half of her body against his. They had crossed the centuries together without him so much as saying a word about his suffering. She resolved to never hurt him that way again.


	19. Surprise Attack

The Uzumaki brat is accompanying them again. Madara's eyes narrow. Of all the indignities he must suffer, this by far is the worst. It also confirms Madara's suspicions that Obito was a consummate idiot, letting himself, a thirty-year-old man, be talked down by a sixteen-year-old with next to no life experience. That Uchiha Madara, the strongest shinobi alive, second only to Senju Hashirama, is being forced to be chaperoned by said sixteen-year-old is an affront to his senses. He resists the urge to eyeball him into tiny little pieces and instead focuses on keeping himself centered. 

"Ne, Hashirama-neechan! Are you seeing anybody?"

Madara coughs. Hashi considers.

"'Seeing'? What do you mean, seeing?"

"Like going on dates and stuff, dattebayo."

"What are 'dates'?" Hashi says. Naruto pumps his fist.

"It's when someone really really likes you and you go out and eat and do stuff!"

"Oh!" Hashi smiles. "I guess Madara and I go out on a lot of dates."

Madara starts and nearly rams into a tree branch. Naruto gestures.

"No! That's not dates! Dates is like for people who _like_ like each other! Like me and Hinata-chan, or me and Sakura-chan, dattebayo."

"Oh, but isn't Sakura in love with that Uchiha boy? The one that looks like Izuna?"

"Oh, you mean Sasuke? Yeah! I think they're actually going out!"

"What's 'going out'?"

"It means 'going out on dates.'"

"Eh?" Hashi says, and Madara slaps his forehead.

"Anyway, my Sensei really likes you, Hashi-neechan! But he's too shy to tell you, dattebayo, so I told him I'd tell you."

"Aw," Hashi says. Naruto grins. "That's sweet."

"He's a sweet guy, dattebayo! He's super nice and he's a good teacher, and--"

"--and obviously this isn't accounting for taste," Madara says. They turn back to look at him.

"And he was the only person who was nice to me when I was little!" Naruto says, turning back to Hashi excitedly. "He's a really good guy, he'd make great husband material!"

"Oh," Hashi says. "Maybe we should go out on a 'date'?"

"You cannot be serious," Madara says. They aren't listening to him.

"You totally should! I'll tell Iruka-sensei you want to!"

Hashi's eyes crease into two adorable half-moons. "Well, he is kind of cute," she says, smiling. ("Dammit!" Madara says.) "Thank you for telling me, Naruto-kun."

"Heh heh, no problem!"


	20. Kabe-don!

"Hashirama." Madara corners Hashi against the wall, blocking her with his arm. He stares at her intently. "I want you to bear my children." ("The fuck?" Izuna says. He's wearing his new glasses.)

Hashi blinks. "Is this because of that endangered species remark I said earlier? Because I'm pretty sure I overheard that Sasuke kid and that Sakura girl are getting pretty serious--"

"No, Hashirama. I want you to bear my children. With _me_. Not some wishy-washy chuunin teacher who fancies himself a shinobi."

"Because you have better genes?" Hashi asks.

"What? No! Because--" Madara glares. "Because--" he screws up his brow and doesn't look at her.

Hashi tilts her head. "Because you're too anti-social to make any friends?"

"What?"

Hashi thoughtfully strokes her chin. "Because everyone is afraid of you and you think no one would want to date you?"

Madara blinks. "I--"

"You're totally dating material! You're not bad-looking. And yeah you're kind of arrogant and a little bit conceited, but you almost took over the entire world and pretty much decimated the shinobi alliance, that in and of itself is pretty impressive!"

"Woman, are you listening? I am telling you I want to marry you."

"Eh?" Hashi says. Izuna slaps his forehead.

"Or...perhaps you don't feel the same way." Madara drops his arm. "Of course you don't. That wasn't even a question."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, I'm really confused, what are you saying?"

Izuna rolls his eyes and goes to the bedroom.


	21. A Valid Concern

"Wait wait wait. Anata. Wait."

"What?"

"The walls are thin. Your brother will hear us." A beat. "Hey. Is that Irish Spring?"

(In the bedroom next door, Izuna throws a pillow over his head and rolls over.)


	22. A Solution

In the dark, there is the occasional choked-back moan and rhythmic thudding coming from the headboard hitting the wall next door.

Izuna pulls the pillow over his head. The thudding continues. He curses and puts on his headphones.


	23. Not a Solution

Iruka is about to walk out of the classroom when a nin who looks exactly like Uchiha Sasuke except wearing terrible glasses blocks him at the door. "Umino Iruka?"

"Uh, yeah, that's...that's me."

The Uchiha's glasses flash. His eyes narrow. "I understand you're taken with the Senju bitch. I'd like to speak to you about forming an alliance."

"Uh...."

*****

Uchiha Izuna is glaring at the bowl of ramen. Iruka waits patiently. He notices Izuna's Sharingan is active behind the glasses.

"So that's the situation. Are we in agreement?"

"About what?" Iruka says.

"Obviously about breaking up my idiot older brother's relationship with that potato-faced bitch. I can help you. I know all my brother's weaknesses."

Iruka rubs his forehead. "Ah, I'm very flattered, Izuna-san, but it was just a little crush, I'm happy that she's happy. It wasn't anything serious."

"Our interests are aligned, why are you refusing this?" Izuna says. Iruka tilts his head.

"Izuna-san," Iruka says. "Why the hatred against Senju Hashirama? From what I understand she's only ever been kind to you and your clan."

"Why?" Izuna stabs a chopstick into his ramen. Iruka waits, patiently.

"Because my older brother loves her more than me!"

"There we go," Iruka says.

"Because we've always been enemies but he still chose her over me!"

"Oh boy," Iruka says.

"Why am I like this?" Izuna says. He holds his head in his hands.

"Well I mean," Iruka gestures diplomatically, "Uchiha tend to be very, ah, passionate."

"You mean passionate as in histrionic," Izuna says. Iruka raises his hands.

"No, no! I just meant, you know, you all love very, very deeply. And you get very hurt when it's not reciprocated."

"You mean by slaughtering entire villages and waging war against an entire shinobi alliance."

"Well--"

"Like when Uchiha Fugaku felt disrespected and mounted a coup, or how Uchiha Itachi loved his village and so slaughtered his clan, or how Uchiha Obito fell in love with a girl and became a kage-level threat and an S-class missing nin?"

"Well, I mean--"

"Or how my brother tried to destroy the village because that stupid Senju didn't recognize his feelings?"

Iruka rubs his neck. "Well...."

Izuna's voice rises. " _I am nothing like that!_ "

"Of course you're not," Iruka says.

"He's my brother! I will always support him!"

"Of course you will," Iruka says.

"I just can't stand the fact that she's having sex with him."

"Okay, too much information there, but--"

"But I suppose I should be happy for him," Izuna says. "I mean, Nii-san's been in love with her since they were kids. Did you know, when our father forbade him from seeing her, he activated his Sharingan? It just makes me so mad that she kept using him. I mean, how can anyone be that stupid? His feelings for her were obvious. It's like she kept hurting him on purpose."

"You really love your brother," Iruka says. Izuna nods.

"Yeah. I do."

"That's good." Iruka pats his arm. "You're a good kid. I'm sure your brother's very proud of you."

"Thanks."

They lean forward and start eating their ramen.

*****

"Yo. I heard you struck out again," Kakashi says. Iruka groans and covers his head on the table.


	24. Impure World Resurrection

This is how Hashi accidentally summoned Izuna.

They were sitting in the middle of a tavern, sharing a bottle of sake and grilled meat and trading war stories, when Tsunade gestured around them.

"I'm telling you, Older Sister," Tsunade grinned, her face red and swirling her bottle of sake, "this place has the best alcohol and the best snacks! We should go here more often."

Hashi laughed and poured Tsunade another cup. Tsunade threw her head back and took it like a shot. "Ahh!" Tsunade said. She slammed the cup down on the table. "Give me some more!"

Hashi laughed. "That's not how you're supposed to drink sake."

"Eh? I'm not drinking it for the taste, you know."

"Geez, I wish I could get drunk," Hashi said. She put her head in her hands. "It looks like so much fun."

"It's only fun in the moment, it's not so fun when you're throwing up or hungover."

"Mm, but your healing ability counteracts that, right?" Hashi said. Tsunade waved her hand.

"My healing ability isn't as strong as yours, Older Sister. Any more sake and I'll start making bad decisions." Tsunade sat up.

"Oh, I know!" Tsunade said. She clapped her hands, excitedly. "We should summon Katsuyu-chan!"

"Who's Katsuyu-chan?" Hashi said.

"She's a slug princess from the Shikkotsu Forest, I have a summoning contract with her. I bet she can help you get drunk!"

"Eh?" Hashi said, but Tsunade staggered forward.

"Is this a good idea?" Hashi said, as Tsunade led her to the courtyard. It was nighttime now, and the sky was dark except for a sliver of moon and the streetlights around them. Tsunade waved her hand, took another swig, then clapped her hands.

A puff of smoke, and the courtyard was filled with the body of the giant slug, which curled around itself and reflected the moonlight on its slimy exterior. " _Tsunade-sama? Is something wrong?_ "

"Ah, Katsuyu-san! This is my Great-great auntie Hashirama. We were just talking about how she can't get drunk."

" _Oh indeed, that is an unusual situation, but how exactly is that a problem?_ "

Hashi raised her hand. "I want to make some bad decisions!" she said. Tsunade started laughing.

Katsuyu didn't seem amused. " _I don't think this is wise, Tsunade-sama. Is there anything else I can do for you?_ "

"Oh c'mon Kaz, you can't inhibit her healing ability? Let her taste a little liquid courage?" Tsunade drunkenly threw her arm around Hashi's shoulder. "Ne?"

" _I regret that I cannot._ "

"You're no fun at all," Tsunade said, and the slug disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Huh. I wonder if the reanimation jutsu works similar to a summoning contract?" Hashi said. Tsunade tilted her head.

"You mean the apocalyptic clusterfuck of undead shinobi? Why the hell would you want to do that?"

"I mean, aren't you the least bit curious? Tobirama created that jutsu with the intention of actually bringing people back, the whole undead kamikaze army thing was just a side effect."

"Oh. So you mean, if you were to imbue your chakra in the summons, just like you do when you perform a mokuton?"

Hashi nodded.

Tsunade started laughing.

As it turned out, Hashi didn't need liquid courage to make bad decisions. She poured a circle of salt in a summoning circle while Tsunade laughed and guzzled from a bottle of wine. "Who are you going to summon?" Tsunade asked. Hashi considered.

"I don't know. Our ancestors are always watching us, right? What if I just open the summoning to whoever answers?"

"Would that even work? I thought you needed some of their DNA?"

Hashi kept writing on the summoning scroll. "Well if we modify it like a normal summoning jutsu, we're not forcibly bringing them back, we're asking their permission. So we wouldn't need their DNA to trap them."

Tsunade raised her glass. "Sounds good to me," Tsunade said.

Hashi wove her hand seals, then clapped her hands. " _Kuchiyose Edo Tensei!_ "

The ground rumbled.

They looked around. "Do you see any coffins anywhere?"

"No, I don't see anything."

Cicadas chirped. They could hear people walking and laughing in the street.

"Well that was a waste." Tsunade finished the bottle. "I think I'd better call it a night and go home."

"Thanks for coming out with me," Hashi said. Tsunade waved her hand.

"Anytime, anytime. That's what family's for."

Hashi hummed cheerfully and walked down the street toward their apartment. There was a bottle of bubble bath she was looking forward to trying - Madara was likely still gone on the mission, she looked forward to having the place to herself.

Gate. Stairs. Keypad. Hashi typed in the numbers to the automated lock and slipped off her shoes.

A large dark shape came hurtling toward her.

SLAM. Hashi skidded backwards, the force of whatever hit her taking her by surprise. She pushed upright but the thing spun into a roundhouse kick. Hashi blocked. Another punch, punch, a kick to the face, but Hashi blocked them all.

"Oh you picked the wrong place to rob!" Hashi said, and the black shape threw a swift kick toward her, but she caught it by the ankle and flipped him over.

"Aggh!"

She shoved him to the ground, her hand on his throat.

"Senju bitch." The man struggled. She couldn't see his face, but he opened his eyes and she could see the glittering red iris of an Uchiha Sharingan.

Hashi blinked. "Wait...Izuna?"

"AAAAAAAH!" Izuna headbutted her and shoved her off his chest. Hashi ran toward the door and threw on the light.

Izuna screamed and hissed, throwing his arm over his face.

"Oh crap." Hashi could see the cracks in Izuna's skin, the telltale black sclera of an undead shinobi's eyes. "Hey, hey listen. I think I accidentally summoned you--"

" _Mangekyou Sharingan_!"

"What?!" Hashi said, and Izuna ran forward and attacked, hurling himself toward her like a projectile weapon. He flew back and clapped his hands.

" _Amaterasu!_ "

"No no no you're going to ruin the furniture--"

Black flames shot out toward her. She blocked it with her Mokuton.

"We're gonna lose our security deposit!" she cried, as Izuna hurled more jutsus.

*****

The apartment was in shambles.

"Oh, crap," Hashi said. She looked around at the fire-scorched walls and the water-stained carpet. "Oh, crap crap crap."

"Senju bitch!" Izuna struggled in the chair. "Untie me!"

"Madara is going to kill me," Hashi said.


	25. Guardian Spirit

"Izuna," Hashi says, and she slides into the chair across from him. "I'd like to apologize for whatever I've done to make you dislike me."

Izuna looks up stonily from his bowl of cereal. Hashi clasps her hands.

"I'm sorry about your brothers," Hashi says. "I know the five of you were close. They died by our hands. Forgive me."

Izuna looks back at his cereal. "It wasn't your fault." He spoons the cereal and shoves it in his mouth. "It was a proxy war. You were hired just like we were."

Hashi hesitates. "Then why--"

"Lots of reasons, I don't want to talk about it."

Later she rounds the corner toward Izuna's room, moving with purpose, until she physically blocks him in the hallway.

"Why don't you like me?" Hashi says.

Izuna scowls, tries to move, but is met with Hashi slamming her fist against the wall, a small crack forming through the plaster. "Answer me," Hashi says.

"What the hell do you want me to say to you? I tolerate you. Go away." Izuna tries to move again but Hashi steps in front of him. "Aggh!"

"I know Madara has tried to talk to you. What is it that I've done that makes you hate me so much?"

"Oh my god you are SO annoying!" Izuna says, and he makes a move to break away but Hashi careens in front of him. "Dammit!"

"Just give me one good reason why you don't like me. If it's something I can change, I'll do it. Otherwise I promise, I'll leave you alone."

"You want to know why I don't like you?" Izuna straightens. "I was there. I saw everything."

"Well I mean, Izuna-kun, you weren't there when we created the village--"

"I was there in spirit, and my brother spoke to me regularly." Izuna crosses his arms. Hashi steps back.

"You...you remember Madara's prayers?"

"I was his guardian spirit," Izuna says. "I suppose I wasn't entirely conscious at the time, but I remember everything now. Every time he lit a candle for me, he'd complain about the stupid bitch Senju who was ignoring him."

"Oh...geez..."

"He talked to me about you after your stupid battle, he broke down crying thinking of you when he was alone in that cave, did you know he had a fucking statue of you that he'd sit and talk to? Because I knew. Because I fucking saw him sitting there for fucking two hundred years while the rest of our ancestors were frolicking outside this mortal fucking plane."

"Huh."

"Yeah." Izuna straightens. "My brother suffered because of you. Just because you're together now doesn't mean I have to like you."

*****

"Anata?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it true you used to have a statue of me?" Hashi asks. Madara coughs and nearly chokes on his cornflakes.

"What are you talking about? Where did you hear that?" Madara says.

"Izuna told me," Hashi says. "Did you know he still has memories as a spirit? He actually told me when I asked him why he didn't like me."

Madara furrows his brow. "What?"

Hashi counts on her fingers. "He told me you used to talk to it, that sometimes you'd pet its hair and kiss it, and--

"Anata?" Hashi says, because Madara's eyes are wide and his face is red. "What is it?" she says. Madara glares.

"I think I need to have a word with Izuna."


	26. Uchiha Obito

Uchiha Obito wakes before his alarm.

He shuts off the clock radio, then pads barefoot toward the bathroom. The sun hasn't risen yet, and everything is shaded in a blue-gray hue outside. Silently Obito opens the medicine cabinet and methodically shakes open his medications - an antidepressant, a migraine prophylactic, and a pain pill for the lingering neuropathy he has in his face, arm, and leg. Closing the medicine cabinet, he looks briefly at his face in the mirror before dry-swallowing the pills, grimacing a bit before turning on the tap of running water.

"Yo," Kakashi says. He's waiting for Obito outside the apartment steps. Obito walks down the metal grated stairs, wearing the standard shinobi flak jacket in Konoha's colors. He doesn't wear the forehead protector, though - it feels dishonest and it makes him slightly uncomfortable.

"What's today's mission?" Obito says.

"VIP escort to the Fire Kingdom's periphery. Easy enough. Sensei is going to meet us at the gate."

They hitch their packs and walk.

The sun is starting to rise, its pale rays starting to peek over the lingering shadows. Minato is there, and he gives them a cheerful wave as they join him.

They called it a second life. Second chance, new beginnings. A way to redeem themselves; a miracle. Whatever it is, Obito has adjusted to his new life in the village. Even if his crimes were forgiven, he still has a need for atonement.

*****

His throat tightened the first time he spoke to Sensei in the village.

"Sensei, forgive me," Obito said, and his voice cracked. "I can never forgive myself for what I did, for hurting your wife and child. I understand if you hate me. I can't help but hate myself."

Kakashi watched. Minato stood, the slight spring breeze catching his hair. He smiled and patted Obito on the shoulder.

"Water under the bridge," Minato said. Obito lifted his eyes.

"Sensei?"

Minato's eyes closed into two happy crescents: "I know Kushina would be the first to offer forgiveness, and my child is already grown, and quite fond of you."

Obito's eyes grew shiny with tears. "Sensei--"

Kakashi clapped Obito's back. "You always were a stupid crybaby."

And Obito laughed, wiping his eyes.

Now the three of them are a team - a formal team of equals, no longer tasked with watching him. He's accepted as a part of the village - people smile when they greet him and no one is afraid of him. "This doesn't feel right," Obito had said to Kakashi, in a low voice. "By all rights, the villagers should shun me after what I did."

Kakashi sighed. "I think you need to go up on that antidepressant," Kakashi said.

*****

They call themselves Team Minato, just like they did during their genin days.

They work their jutsus in tandem, Kakashi flanking their target on one side while Obito runs toward the other. One blink, and Obito's kamui swirls, Minato flash-stepping beside them and neutralizing the threat.

Afterwards, they sit at the base of a tree, eating a few rice balls and sharing a canteen of water. Obito is screwing back on the cap when a thought suddenly occurs to him. "Sensei?"

Minato looks up. "Yeah?"

"I just realized, Sensei. Physically we're all the same age."

"You just now figured that out?" Kakashi says, and Minato laughs. Obito glares and blushes.

"It was just an observation," Obito says. He tosses a stick on the ground and puts away his canteen.

They're coming back from the mission, Kakashi and Minato and Obito, and as they trudge heavily through the forest path toward Konoha, they see the shape of another three-person team walking toward them: Naruto and Hashi and Uchiha Madara.

"Look, it's my dad!" Naruto says, and Minato waves at them.

"Hello," Hashi says to Kakashi. Kakashi nods.

"Yo."

Obito's eyes track toward Madara's. Madara looks back at him stonily.

"Yeesh, that guy is really intense, isn't he?" Kakashi says, after they pass.

"Who?" Minato says.

"Uchiha Madara. Who else?"

Obito tosses a rock, walking a little ahead of them.

"You okay, Obito?" Kakashi asks. Minato looks at him, worried.

"I'm fine," Obito says. He keeps walking. "C'mon. We're almost home."


	27. Typing

"Marriage certificate. Marriage certificate. Um..."

Hashi moves her mouse and opens the web browser.

They're sitting in front of a computer that Hashi had put together, because apparently there was a thing called the 'internet' where they could print out marriage documents. It was an ordeal - apparently it wasn't enough to set up the computer, they had to get an "internet service provider" to connect them, and apparently cable internet technicians are in such high demand, their wait times are as long as eight hours. ("Why aren't they here yet?" Madara had said, pacing. Hashi raised her hands.

"It's only been six hours, there's still a two hour window.")

Now Madara leans over Hashi's shoulder as she squints her eyes at the monitor and carefully moves her mouse, positioning the little cursor arrow over the search bar of their web browser.

Double click. The cursor blinks, waiting.

"Marriage certificate. Marriage certificate..." She presses one finger on the keyboard. "M. A." She looks down at the keyboard. "Where's the 'R' key?"

"The what?" Madara says.

"The 'R' key, I can't find it."

"There," Madara says, and Hashi presses it down with one finger.

"M, A, R, R....where's the 'I'?"

Madara points. "There."

"I, A--haha! I remembered that one! uh, M-A-R-R-I-A...G? Where's the G?" Her finger hovers. "G, G, G...where's the G...?"

Madara scowls. "This is ridiculous," he says, and he stands up, pushing past the small mountain of empty boxes and packing peanuts, detritus from the so-called computer Hashi had set up. Hashi looks up at him questioningly.

"The Uzumaki idiot," Madara says. He hitches his pack. "He's usually at the ramen stand during this time, correct?"

"Yeah, I think so, but why--"

"I'm going to use my Sharingan to learn how to type."

"You can do that?" Hashi says, but the door slams shut, he's already left. Hashi sighs and turns back to the web browser. She presses with one finger.

"G. E--"

She accidentally clicks the "X" on the top corner.

"Wait wait wait wait no no NO--"

The computer screen is a bright square in the dark of their living room, laughing at her.

*****

Naruto is eating ramen with Iruka when Madara stalks up behind them.

"You will let me see you type," Madara says.

"Eh? Madara-ojiichan? What--"

Madara pulls out a laptop from his satchel and slams it in front of them. "Do it. Now."

Naruto and Iruka glance at each other. "Uh, this laptop isn't connected online, dattebayo. What do you want me to type?"

"I don't care. Figure it out."

"Maybe open the word processor?" Iruka says. Naruto gives a confused look at Madara, then begins to type. Madara's Sharingan turns.

****

Madara throws the door open to their apartment. "Move," he says. Hashi scoots out from the computer and Madara sits down in front of the keyboard. Decisively, he moves his mouse and clicks open the web browser.

His Sharingan turns. His fingers clack on the keyboard.

MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE ONLINE PDF

"Wow," Hashi says. Madara clicks search.

The computer spits out a list of nonsense back at them.

"What the hell is this?" Madara says, as they stare at a thousand listings on the page. "Wedding soundtrack? We are not looking for this!" Madara says. Hashi bangs her head on the keyboard.


	28. Part II: Timeskip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II: Hashi and Madara become parents. A reluctant Obito babysits.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Hashi asks. She's holding the baby against her hip, balancing him on her forearm while their toddler tugs on her shirt. Madara scoffs.

"You treat me as if I'm incompetent. I will be fine, I assure you."

"But it's the two of them and only one of you, and--"

"Izuna will help," Madara says. Hashi purses her lips.

"Are you sure?" she says.

"If they give me trouble I'll just genjutsu them," Madara says.

"Please don't," Hashi says.

She's going to the Five Kage summit. Technically, she isn't the current hokage, but the nin of the Iwa extended their invitation to all the other living kages who were resurrected. ("Konoha isn't the only village with resurrected kages," Tsunade said.)

Now she's running around the house, checking and double-checking all the baby-related things on her list. It's only then that she straightens, satisfied, and takes a breath.

"Okay," Hashi says. She kisses Madara on the cheek and hands him their baby. "Formula's in the fridge. The bottle warmer is in the cabinet. Oh! And the toddler gets cranky when she doesn't get her nap, so make sure you put her to bed."

"I will take care of it," Madara says. He places his hand on the small bump of her stomach. "You take care of this one."

Hashi beams at him. "I'll see you in three days."

"Travel safe."

"I will."

She waves at him as she pulls her luggage out the door.

*****

Madara, surprisingly, has taken well to fatherhood.

"Why are you letting her play with that?!" Hashi says, when she catches their firstborn baby daughter sucking on the handle of a kunai, mouthing it as if it were a pacifier. Madara shrugs.

"Life lessons," Madara says. "She will learn early not to touch something sharp."

Then there is the time they see people blowing bubbles in the park, which leads to Madara teaching their baby girl how to blow fire. "She is an Uchiha, she needs to learn," Madara says, which leads to them using up at least a dozen fire extinguishers and getting to know the names of all the civilian firemen.

It gets worse when the second one comes; most days, Hashi will come home and see the two of them terrorizing the other neighborhood children. "Why are there crying babies on the lawn?! And what's this about a 'baby fight club'?!"

Madara sniffs. "I spoke with the other fathers on the playground. They agree that the children are much too soft."

Truly, in Madara's estimation, Hashirama is much too fearful when it comes to their children. And now that she's pregnant again, that anxiety has only ramped up.

"How far along is she again?" Izuna says.

"Ten weeks," Madara says. "It is still early, but I don't like the idea of her traveling that far."

Izuna looks out at the partial Susanoo Madara is using as a playpen, the two kids hitting each other with blocks. "They both look like you," Izuna says. Madara smirks.

"So I've been told."

The Susanoo cage glows blue as the children cry and start hurling jutsus at each other.

*****

There is nothing more terrifying than Uchiha Madara looking down on you from on high. Arms crossed, chin jutted out, with a wild mass of tangled hair, it is a sight that strikes fear in the hearts of nin from all five nations: that he also has a little baby strapped to his chest doesn't diminish the terror inspired by his presence.

"I heard you're terrorizing the parents on the playground," Hashi says. She's only a few weeks postpartum now, so playdates and other outings have fallen to Madara, who proudly drags his fire babies to the park where they wreak havoc and inspire fear in the hearts of lesser nin. 

"Hmph." Madara sniffs. "Our children are superior to them. I do not see the problem."

"The eldest is throwing them around with her Rinnegan and the baby is belching fire at them!" She is talking about their middle baby, not their newest baby. Madara smirks.

"Well technically, our son is a toddler now, is he not? He is already walking," Madara says. Hashi puts her head in her hands.

The newborn is still innocent. They swaddle him up like a tiny burrito, his spiky hair already looking like a baby version of Madara's. 

"Mommy, shuriken!" their baby-slash-toddler son waddles up to Hashi, holding weapons in his hand. "Mommy! Outside! Shuriken!"

"Behold. Our son wants to train," Madara says. Hashi takes the shuriken from him.

"The last time you let him 'train' he cut his hand playing with a katana."

"And you healed him. He is fine," Madara says.

"Ugh."

"You worry too much." Madara picks up the newborn, holding him to his chest and supporting the back of his neck, "This generation is soft. You've let their paranoia unduly affect you. If you remember, our upbringing was much more harsh."

They have three children now, a 5-year-old daughter, a 2-year-old son, and a newborn, and when Madara takes them to the street they follow him like a row of spiky-haired ducklings, Madara in front, the baby strapped to his chest like armor while the other two walk and toddle behind him. "They don't look anything like you," Tsunade says. She watches the parade of Uchiha walking toward the park. Hashi sighs heavily.

"I know."


	29. Five-year-old Jounin

Iruka sits behind his desk, folding his hands in front of him.

"So, as you know, your daughter has finished her first month of kindergarten, and," Iruka takes a moment, keeps his voice calm and measured, "there are some things we need to discuss."

"What is it?" Hashi says. She is sitting in the chair provided in front of Iruka's desk, but Madara has opted to keep standing, his arms crossed and a pinched look on his face. Iruka's eyes dart quickly toward him before turning back to Hashirama.

"Well," Iruka says. "Your daughter is...very advanced."

"Splendid. What is the problem?" Madara says.

"Ah, Madara-san, perhaps...perhaps if you just sit down...?"

Madara's eyes narrow. "I prefer to stand."

"Okay." Iruka rubs his neck nervously. "Well. The young lady is, ah. Is rather intimidating for a five-year-old her age...."

"Intimidating, how?" Hashi says. Iruka takes a breath.

"Well...she used her Sharingan against the faculty a number of times; she used her Rinnegan against a group of upper level students who were learning bunshin jutsus, and apparently she has beat up two genin who were preparing to take their chuunin exams."

"Splendid!" Madara says, while Hashi starts, "What?" Iruka clears his throat.

"As I said, your little girl is very advanced," Iruka says.

"Excellent. So we pull her out of this class and let her take the chuunin exams. I agree with this assessment," Madara says.

"Now hold on, she is still only five years old, mentally and emotionally, she's a kindergartner, so--"

"It is my understanding you people had children as young as four years old fight in the Third Shinobi War, unless I am mistaken," Madara says.

Iruka hesitates, "Well, Uchiha Itachi, like your daughter, was a special case, so--"

"So what is the problem?"

"Anata." Hashi turns around in her chair. "Just come sit down."

Madara glowers. He pulls out the chair and sits heavily, glaring at Iruka. If looks could kill - and on a normal day, Madara's can and _does_ \- Iruka would be completely annihilated right now. But because his wife is urging restraint, Madara keeps himself in check. He sits back in the chair and crosses his arms.

"So we have a choice," Iruka says. "We can either pull her out of the classroom now and assign her to a genin team, or we keep her where she is, so she can continue to develop socially."

"Pull her out," Madara says, while Hashi says, "Keep her where she is." They glance at each other. Iruka laughs nervously.

"Well, you two take some time to talk about it. No one needs to come to a decision, now."

*****

"I'm just worried," Hashi says. It's nighttime now, and they're walking down the street, heading back to the house. "The whole point of starting the village was to protect our children from unnecessary harm. Genin go out on real missions, there won't be anyone to protect her if she's in danger."

"She won't be in danger, genin do not do anything," Madara says. "The most she'll do is rescue pets or help frail civilians cross the street. She won't even leave the village."

"Aren't most genin around twelve years old, though? She's five. Those kids are going through puberty. What if they exclude her?"

"Then they will learn to fear and respect her."

"I don't think that's a good plan," Hashi says. They get to the house and open the door.

"Nii-san!"

Madara starts, "Izuna?!"

Their daughter is laughing, pinning Izuna to the wall with her ocular powers, her little brothers giggling by her feet. She looks up and sees them. Her face brightens.

"Mommy! Daddy!" She jumps up and runs toward them. Izuna drops to the ground.

Madara leans toward Hashi. "Hashirama, are you still concerned about those kids going through puberty?" Hashi shakes her head.

"I guess not."


	30. In Case It's Not Clear

"For the record, Nii-san, I could have easily subdued her. But she's my niece, I didn't want to hurt her."

A beat.

"Your eyes are bleeding."

"You need to start paying me to babysit!"

"....Sorry."


	31. Five-year-old Jounin, part 2

"Is this really necessary?" Hashi says.

Madara is going around their bedroom making the necessary fortifications: first he genjutsu'd the children to make sure they stay asleep. Next, he used his mokuton, which - while not as powerful as Hashi's and certainly not as good as when he was undead - he used to barricade the door (he would have rather Hashi do it, but she told him he was being stupid, and so it fell to him). Lastly, he puts up his Susanoo, a double layer of impenetrable blue chakra, one wall outside the bedroom and one bubble within.

Functionally, they're sitting in the Susanoo's armpit. The shoulder serves as the dome while the forearm serves as the wall.

Hashi huffs. "Ne. If you don't get over here I'm going to start without you."

"How are you going to do that?" Madara glances up and sees Hashi raise her eyebrows and makes exaggerated masturbating motions just above her pubis. Madara blinks. "Ah. I see."

Hashi flops on the bed. She had gotten naked earlier in anticipation of their lovemaking, but when Madara started trying to throw up a mokuton shield, she just sighed resigned and put back on her tank top. She turns her head sideways and calls out to Madara.

"Are you done yet? I promise you, she's not going to come in here again, not after what happened last time." (They were caught having sex when their daughter picked the lock to their room, after which time Hashi shrieked and punched Madara in the face.)

"I'm just going over the fortifications. There could still be weak points."

"She's five and she's asleep. Who cares about the weak points?"

Madara sits on the bed. Hashi crawls next to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting against his back. She kisses him on the cheek, then pulls back, frowning.

"It's weird kissing you when your eyes are like that," she says. She brushes her fingertips along his temple, looking into his Mangekyou Sharingan. "It feels like we're going to battle."

He leans her backwards. "You always close your eyes after we get started anyway."

"Huh, I guess I do."

They kiss. She feels his body relax on top of hers.

"Mommy? Daddy?"

"Shit--" they sit up.

"There's something on the door--"

"Just a minute!" Hashi says, when suddenly the door explodes and the orange-flamed arm of their daughter's Susanoo rips a hole through Madara's blue one.

Their daughter walks in holding her dolly. "I'm thirsty, Mommy. Can I get a glass of milk?"


	32. Five-year-old Jounin, part 3

Madara and Hashi sit in front of their daughter at the table.

"Honey," Hashi hesitates. "Daddy cast a jutsu on you. How are you awake?"

Their daughter recites as if by rote: "My Daddy says if your chakra's disordered just make it burst, and then the genjutsu will break." She says the words by memory, combing the doll's hair.

They glance at each other. "How did you break through Daddy's mokuton?" Hashi says.

"I used my Suzy-Noo," their daughter says.

"And how did you break through Daddy's Susanoo?"

"I used a sword and arrow," their daughter says. She looks up and there is blood smeared around her eyes. Madara's eyes widen.

"I told you not to overuse your powers!" Madara says. He pushes in front of Hashi, clasping the child by the shoulders. "Let me see your eyes. Is your vision blurred? Do you have headaches?"

"No, Daddy." Their daughter wriggles in his grasp. Madara frowns.

"Listen here. As soon as you feel pinpricks at the backs of your eyes, you need to stop. Do you understand?"

"But Mommy's room was locked and I wanted to open the door."

"You will go blind if you overuse your eyes. Do you understand?"

"But Uncle Izuna was blind, and they grew him new eyes," their daughter says.

"Dammit." Madara stands, frustrated. Hashi knits her fingers together, then turns back to their daughter.

"Okay, honey. We're sorry we locked the door. But from now on, you need to knock, okay?" Hashi says.

Their daughter chirps, "Okay, Mommy!"

"Good." Hashi kisses the top of her head. "Now drink your milk and go to bed."

"Okay!" she takes her cup and runs back down the hallway.

Hashi falls back into the chair. "What are we going to do with her?" she says. Madara sits next to her.

"She needs to train, or else she might accidentally blind herself playing. She does not yet recognize her limits," Madara says. He pauses a moment, as if contemplating. And then, "I could always give her my eyes, so that she'd have the Eternal Mangekyou--"

"Do we have to resort to that? They regrew Izuna's eyes, right? Couldn't we treat her the same way?"

"Izuna's powers have been dampened, he can do the jutsus but he can't sustain them. They are a poor substitute for the real thing."

"But you're not saying to do that now, right? As long as she learns when to stop using them--"

"My fear is she will be in the midst of battle when her sight ends. Giving her my eyes would prevent that."

Hashi's jaw tightens. "But what if the same thing happens to the other two?" she says. Madara sighs and rubs his head.

*****

At school, their daughter plays hopscotch with her friends. "How come you're not using your Sharingan?" they ask.

Their daughter chirps, "My Daddy says I'm not allowed to use my eyes unless it's a life or death situation!"

Her classmates' eyes widen.

"Ooooh."


	33. Interlude

It's already nighttime when Hashi comes home from her mission, and everyone is already asleep. She doesn't bother switching on the lights: instead, she quietly slips off her shoes and pads barefoot into the kitchen, where she unwraps a bowl of food and eats standing over the sink. A quick rinse of the bowl and chopsticks, and she gets ready for bed.

Madara is asleep, facing her and curled up on his side. Quietly, Hashi lifts the blankets and crawls beside him. She presses a soft kiss against his jaw, then tucks herself into the warm space between their bodies. She falls asleep cuddled against him, wrapping him in her arms.


	34. Hands-on Parenting

Madara and his daughter are hiding in the bushes, watching a merchant rearranging apples on his fruit stand. Madara points.

"Look well, daughter. You see that man over there?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"He insulted your father gravely. Let us practice your katons to show him."

"Okay, Daddy!"

She starts weaving her hand seals.

****

"You set fire to his fruit stand?!" Hashi says, while their daughter laughs and Madara stands, arms crossed, aloof and disaffected.

"Do not worry, Hashirama. She only set the sign on fire."

****

Madara has forbidden their daughter from using the Sharingan. No ocular techniques, just taijutsu and ninjutsu. "Some day, you will be blind," Madara says, and he ties the blindfold around her head. "You need to learn how to sense the things around you without your sight."

He begins her training in earnest. "Daughter," Madara says, and he sets down his bag of weapons. "Today I will teach you how to dance."

The little girl's face brightens.

*****

"Why were you throwing rocks at our child?!" Hashi says.

Madara holds up his hands. "I was teaching her to dodge, so that she is not so dependent on the Sharingan."

"By throwing rocks at her?! Knives? _Shuriken?!_ "

"Calm yourself, Hashirama, I would not use weapons against her if I weren't confident she'd survive."

Hashi crosses her arms. "I don't think you should be talking about our daughter 'surviving' your training," Hashi says. Madara frowns.

"Need I remind you, Hashirama, there are jounin not even half her skill level being thrown into mortal peril at all times. I fail to see how she's in any danger from a few loose rocks."

"Can't you just skip stones by the river with her? Practice her katons against wooden targets instead of people?"

"I fail to see the utility in that."

"Ugh."

"More to the point, Hashirama, I'm concerned you're growing soft. We lived in an era of constant war. You are coddling our children."

Hashi looks around. "Wait a minute, where are the babies?" she says.

Madara cocks his head to the side, where she sees the baby and the toddler playing with their toys inside his Susanoo. "I would have left them with weapons, but you told me not to," Madara says.


	35. Neighbors

The neighbor and his wife look out their window at the Uchiha family's backyard, growing more and more distressed.

"Is he...throwing rocks at her?" they peer through the curtains, watching the Uchiha hurling rocks while his daughter shrieks and laughs. 

"I think that's some sort of ninja training," the neighbor's wife says. Another rock goes whizzing past their window.

*****

They had never met shinobi before the Uchiha family moved in. They looked nice enough: the woman was pregnant and the man was carrying a little girl against his chest. The neighbor and his wife decided to talk to them.

"Is it true there was a war?" the neighbor's wife asked, after they made the necessary introductions. The female nin nodded.

"Oh, there was - but don't worry, everything's resolved," the female nin - Hashirama - said. 

"Hmph. Hard to believe you ninjas fought an entire war in the span of two days. Are you sure you guys weren't just blowing steam?" the neighbor said. His wife elbowed him in the ribs.

Hashi laughed. "Oh, well we're pretty efficient when it comes to those things." 

"So what brings you to the neighborhood? Usually shinobi stay in the inner gates of the village, we usually only get merchants moving in here."

"There are fewer idiots," the male one said, as he walked past them. The woman laughed.

"He has a little bit of a reputation. Nothing bad, it's just quieter here," she said.

"Reputation" was hardly the word for it: now the neighbor and his wife watch, growing more and more dismayed as the Uchiha and his feral children wreak havoc on the neighborhood.

"You know, I heard," the neighbor said, settling into his armchair, "that Uchiha Madara apparently was some sort of war criminal."

"No," his wife says. The neighbor nods.

"Yeah, and get this: his wife - that Hashi woman you always swap recipes with? - apparently _she_ was in charge of guarding him."

His wife gasps, scandalized. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. That's what the tea merchant said."

"Yup, he's a war criminal," the tea merchant says, as the neighbor's wife pays for her groceries. "Not only that - they were both resurrected from the dead."

The wife scoffs. "No. That can't be true."

"It is! My cousin has a friend who knows a Konoha genin. That woman and that man there were resurrected. In fact," the tea merchant's voice lowers, "I heard the woman was the one who founded the village."

The wife starts laughing. "Senju Hashirama was a man," she says. 

"Oh, yeah." The tea merchant looks sheepish. "I forgot about that."

The wife pays for her groceries and heads back. 

*****

The neighbor is fixing his roof when it suddenly collapses. He falls two storeys, landing in the rubble.

"Are you okay?" Hashi-san comes running. The neighbor's wife is hysterical. 

"He's bleeding! We need to take him to the hospital!"

"It's okay." She puts her hands on the neighbor's chest. A faint blue glue emanates from her hands. "I can heal this."

The skin knits. The wife stares, awestruck, as the female nin calmly heals him.

The neighbor sits up. "Oh my god," he says. "How did you do that?"

The woman rubs her neck, smiling. "It's just a ninja thing. Don't worry about it."

"See, I told you, you should have hired someone to fix the roof!" the neighbor's wife says. 

Hashi-san looks at their house. "I can fix that, if you want?"

"What? the tiling?"

"Well I can board it up - it might not look as nice but it'll at least stop the leaking." She claps her hands, and the neighbors watch, awestruck as the trunks of trees spring up from the earth, curling and taking the shape of the roof.

"There we go," Hashi-san says, smiling. "Well, I'm heading back to the house. My husband is training our kids and I need to be there to make sure he's not terrorizing the children."

"O-okay." The neighbors blink. Hashi waves.

"Let me know if you need anything."

"We will. And thank you."


	36. Competition

"Umino Iruka. I do not appreciate you making eyes at my wife."

Iruka stops. Madara is suddenly in his personal space, Sharingan active and chakra roiling. Iruka raises his hands. "I wasn't eyeing your wife, I would never do that," Iruka says, but Madara steps closer.

"Do not lie to me. I can see enemy movement in the midst of battle; following the gaze of a lecherous grade-school teacher is nothing to me."

"Uh..." A beat of sweat forms on Iruka's brow.

"Consider this a warning," Madara says, and he leaves the classroom.

****

"What? Eyes? Our daughter's teacher? Iruka-san?" Hashi looks up. She had been kneading dough for dumplings and her hands are covered in flour. Madara's eyes narrow.

"It was clear as day, and frankly quite insulting."

"Are you sure, though? I mean, you have a tendency to get a little aggressive--"

"Hashirama, I do not wish to be lectured by someone who is habitually oblivious to the desires of other men. _I saw him._ And my eyes have never failed."

"Wait, what do you mean 'oblivious'? I'm not oblivious--"

Madara gives her a pointed look.

"...I mean, other than with you..."

"Hmph."


	37. Family Planning

Uchiha Madara is an imposing figure as he walks down the aisle of the convenience store: people turn heads as he passes them, the wild mass of black hair and the high collar of his Uchiha cassock completely at odds with the civilians and normal nin wearing khakis and T-shirts.

Uchiha Madara is carrying a plastic red basket. He moves rapidly and efficiently: a bento for two, a few bottles of water. He's about to round over to the register when a sign catches his eye.

FAMILY PLANNING, it says. Madara's brow creases. He walks over.

*****

"What's this?" Hashi says, as Madara shows her the box of condoms and the bottle of lubricant he purchased from the store earlier.

"I do not know," Madara says. He shakes the box, showing her. "To be honest, I've been curious about what these little boxes mean, but I've not had the opportunity to actually purchase them."

Hashi picks up the bottle of lube, examining it in the light.

"Hm. This is apple-flavored. Do you drink this?" Hashi says. She unscrews the cap and sniffs. She daubs a little on her finger and takes a taste. She grimaces. "Ew." She picks up the box of condoms. "What's this? 'Trojan, her pleasure, variety pack.' Is this like a tampon?"

"Perhaps it is a masturbatory aid," Madara says. Hashi opens the box.

The condoms fall out, all in colorful tin foil wrappers. Hashi tears one open and holds the ring up to the light. She pushes her finger in and starts laughing.

"What?" Madara says. Hashi cracks up, wheezing. "What, woman, what?"

"This goes on your penis!"

"What?" Madara says. Hashi takes her sheathed katana and slips the condom over the handle.

Madara's eyes widen and his face turns red. Hashi starts laughing again. "Look, there's a little bubble at the end that you catch your seed in--"

Madara grabs the katana from her and pulls off the condom, throwing it in the trash. Hashi giggles. She leans against his back and hugs him.

"Aw, why are you embarrassed?" she asks. Madara scowls. She squeezes him affectionately. "You wanted to know, right?" Madara glares, blushing. She brushes his hair back, smiling and pressing a kiss behind his ear.

"Ne," she says, smiling.

"Do you want to try it?"


	38. Date Night (mature)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-explicit sexual content, woman-on-top, PIV sex

"Oh, you guys having your brother babysit again?" the neighbors peer over the fence, watching as Madara gives instructions to Izuna.

Hashi beams. "Yeah," she says, smiling. "We're having a date night."

"Oh, that sounds like fun! Are you doing anything?"

"Mm, a little of this, a little of that." Hashi's eyes crease into two crescents. "It's been awhile so we're looking forward to it."

"Well have fun," the wife says. Hashi smiles.

"We will."

*****

"Do you want me to carry that?" Madara asks, as they start to walk into the forest. Hashi smiles and hands him the weapons bag.

It's nighttime. Once again, they choose a night where the moon is full, hovering like a silver coin over the deserted valley. Madara unzips the weapons bag and hands Hashi her flak jacket - she's already wearing the standard shinobi uniform, blue shirt and blue pants, a kunai holster tied around her thigh - but Madara opts not to wear armor, choosing to battle in his cassock like normal.

Hashi hefts her summoning scroll across her back, then ties her forehead protector around her head. "Ready?"

Madara nods. They walk to opposite ends of the valley and take a stance.

"Oh, I think it's going to rain," the neighbor says. There's lightning in the distance, the sound of thunder crashing. The sky lights up with flashes of white, illuminating the treeline in the horizon.

*****

Above them, the sky opens up in a light rain.

Madara is on his back, Hashi pinning him down, a kunai to his neck. Rain falls, and her hair is dripping as she leans over him, both of them exhausted and breathing heavily.

Then Hashi starts to laugh, collapsing on top of him, tossing the kunai aside before kissing and nuzzling his neck. Madara smirks and wraps his arms around her, pleased with their battle even though he has yet to beat her.

They have sex beneath a makeshift lean-to, Hashi just having enough chakra to muster a makeshift shelter from the rain. Straddling Madara's lap, Hashi pulls off the sopping wet cassock and bares his chest, sinking down and up on top of him in a punishing rhythm. His skin is warm and she leans down and presses against him, breathing raggedly and gripping his shoulders for balance.

The valley is quiet. They've both changed into dry clothes from their waterproof weapons bag, a small fire besides their lean-to, keeping them warm. Wordlessly Madara unfolds a blanket from their pack and drapes it over the both of them, before curling on his side and pressing his body tight against hers. He spoons her close, sinking against her back, and Hashi smiles, closing her eyes.


	39. Date Night, part 2 (mature)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-explicit sexual content, PIV sex

"Why won't you wear a flak jacket?" Hashi asks. It's after their battle and they're sheltering in the lean-to, putting away their weapons. Madara shrugs.

"I don't like the feel of it. I prefer the heft of our old plate armor."

"Eh..." Hashi frowns. His plate armor had gotten destroyed when he first invoked the Rinne Tensei on himself.

She hands him the two handkerchiefs in her pocket - hers and the one she had forcibly taken from him earlier. He rolls them up and stuffs them in their bag.

Their battle was an elaborate form of "Capture the Flag." They would both each start with their own handkerchief: the goal would be to try to steal the other one. It was a genius modification and a practical way to ensure they'd both go all out without having to try to kill the other. "You may have gone all out, but I did not," Madara says.

Hashi raises her eyebrows. "Oh?" she says. Madara smirks.

"I could summon an asteroid and completely decimate this valley if I wanted to."

Hashi remembers - Madara often brags about the two asteroids he summoned when he fought alone against the shinobi alliance. She zips up their bag.

"Ne," she says, straightening. "Can you stop those asteroids mid-air, once you summon them? Or do they just slam into the earth once they're there?"

"Of course I could stop them. I'd have complete control over all of them."

"Well..." she rises, dusting her hands on her knees. "Do you want to try it?"

"Try what?"

"Summoning an asteroid or two. See if I can stop it?"

Madara cackles, excited. "Hashirama, even you will not be able to stop it. I wield the power of the gods!" He looks absolutely giddy at the thought. Hashi grins.

"Try it," she says. Madara's face splits into a psychotic grin.

He throws down their sack of weapons and strides out toward the center of the valley. Clapping his hands, his Susanoo flares around him, all at once splitting into threes, its hands also in a summoning position. There's a sudden gust of wind, the rain starting to fall in harsh sheets, and suddenly the clouds part, and the asteroid comes hurtling toward them.

Hashi claps her hands. " _Mokuton, Kajukai Kōrin!_ "

Trees explode violently through the earth, their trunks rapidly expanding to the same width and breadth as the asteroid coming toward them. The asteroid slams into the branches but more tree trunks shoot upwards, reinforcing them. The ground shudders and a second asteroid crashes into the first, but the trees bow, holding steady. A cloud of dust and pollen rises up around the flowering forest like smoke.

Madara starts laughing, delighted and unhinged. "Splendid! _Splendid!_ Of course you are the only one who could take me! The power of the gods and you stopped them with your stupid trees!"

"Hey. My trees aren't stupid," Hashi says, but he shoves her against the wall of their lean-to and kisses her hard, grinning against her mouth.

It's a secret quirk of their marriage, and something Hashi had long suspected even before they got together - that every time he's beaten by her, he gets incredibly, uncontrollably aroused. Hashi laughs, throwing an arm around him as he drives into her with a punishing rhythm, grinning against her neck and shoving her against the rocky floor.

"You know, most men would feel threatened by this," Hashi says. They're lying sated beneath a blanket, Madara's head resting on her chest while she cards her fingers through his hair, thoughtfully. She hears Madara scoff softly.

"Most men are idiots. Only a genius of my caliber could appreciate it."

Hashi smiles. They kiss and settle against each other quietly.

The sun shines brightly the next morning, and Hashi follows Madara down the trail while he hitches up their pack. She carries his battle fan - it's lighter than her summoning scroll, and while Madara would prefer to carry everything, she insisted she help.

They walk back, the dirt road to the village dappled in greens and yellows, the streaks of hazy sunlight coming through the canopy of trees.


	40. Gedou Mazou

There was no light in the cave where the Gedou Mazou was held, and the days and nights of the years had blended into one long stretch of darkness. There was the sound of water dripping, the slight scuff of the cords scraping along the rocky floor as Madara shuffled across the cave. Back bent, his wrists and knees beset by arthritis, he knew if one were to see him, he'd be the perfect visage of death. The scythe he used as a cane became a private joke to him.

He spent most of his days dreaming. Attached to the Gedou Mazou, Madara would wake and be young again, the vast whiteness of his mind's eye full of unlimited opportunity. He could conjure whole villages and people, have conversations with relatives who have long since died. In the dream world, he was never lonely, and Hashi was still alive.

His eyes opened. As always, the statue mocked him, its pulsing chakra withdrawing just enough to shove him out of the dream. Once again he'd be greeted by cold air and the sound of dripping water, the reality of his frail body and his isolation weighing down on him.

During their last battle, he had shoved Hashi on the ground, one hand slamming into her throat, before she wrenched her body out of his grasp. She screamed and swung at him with a sword but he caught it in his hand. The metal pierced through his flesh, shocking them.

A punch. Her body spinning, one harsh kick to his side, another blow against him. Madara staggered but Hashi kept charging forward, whipping around violently and throwing him into a headlock. Madara yelled and bit into the meat of her arm, making her howl with pain. She let go and he threw his head back, tearing off a chunk of flesh, her blood smearing against his mouth.

That chunk of flesh grew with the strength of the Gedo Mazou, and Madara looked up, seeing the twisted white spine of tree trunks curling above him. Pods of Zetsus grew off its branches like demented fruit, sexless and scheming. They should have been perfect clones of her, but they looked like a twisted mirror version of her Sexy no Jutsu.

"Madara-sama. You are awake?" The voices were cloying and subtly mocking. Madara's one eye drifted upward.

"Leave me," Madara said, and the Zetsus laughed and slunk back, their pale skin disappearing into the shadows.

He leaned heavily on the handle of his scythe, his body wobbling a bit on unsteady legs. It hurt to move, but he willed himself forward anyway, the cords on his back dragging like chains.

"The time is near," he murmured. He stood in front of Hashi's likeness, a grotesque clone of her that was only half-formed, as if she were trapped in wax. Slowly, he lifted one withered hand to the side of her face, let his fingertips fall and trace the line of her jaw.

"Madara-sama. Your pupil is back," the Zetsus said, and Madara straightened. "He was really upset with what happened to his friend."

"How did he do?" Madara looked back at the statue, at Hashi's form rising upwards like wax. The Zetsus grinned behind him.

"It was a massacre," the Zetsus said, smiling. "Madara-sama. He slaughtered them all."

At the back of the cave, Madara could hear the despondent shuffle of a boy whose spirit he had forcibly broken. For a brief moment, Madara regretted what he'd done to him.

The stone tablets beneath the Naka Shrine held a promise: that the people who died could be resurrected, and that those he killed will awaken to a new world, so long as he succeeded. He lifted his eyes as the boy slowly came near him. He knew it was the only way.


	41. River

At the base of the river, an Uchiha child toddles forward. There is something shiny in the riverbank, and the child is curious. He reaches his chubby hands into the water.

Something yanks him backward, and the baby's little legs stumble. He lands squarely on his butt. The baby looks around, confused, then looks up. His face brightens. He reaches his little arms upward.

"What the hell am I looking at?" Obito says, as Madara picks up the toddler from across the river.

Obito is sitting next to Kakashi across the other side of the river, watching with growing disbelief as Uchiha Madara herds his children; one is strapped to his chest while the other one toddles around with a baby leash. Occasionally, he will toddle a little too far, and Madara will yank him backward.

"Have you seen his daughter?" Kakashi asks, and as if on cue, the little girl comes barreling down the trail, shrieking and laughing. There is smoke coming from behind the bushes and they both realize she has set something on fire. "He's practically a house husband," Kakashi says. He stretches, then leans against the tree comfortably. "Tsunade won't let him go on any missions."

"Why?" Obito says. Kakashi shrugs.

"Not trustworthy. And besides, Hashi-san herself is worth the strength of an entire platoon of nin. If something of that magnitude needs to be done, they'd rather just send her in."

"That doesn't anger him?" Obito watches as Madara shepherds his children away from the river. The toddler starts throwing a tantrum: Obito and Kakashi watch as Madara simply genjutsus him.

"I don't think so," Kakashi says, as Madara picks up the toddler the way he would a sack of flour, carrying both babies while his daughter follows him. "I think he actually enjoys it."

"Actually enjoys terrorizing the civilians in the village," Obito says. "I heard he set a local fruit stand on fire."


	42. Team of Elites

"She's too powerful. I don't think she should be training with the other genin." The genin team leader, a Nara jounin, is sitting in front of Iruka and Tsunade. A sweat drop forms on the Nara jounin's forehead.

"Powerful, how?" Tsunade says. The Nara jounin swallows.

"Well. The span of her katon is easily the the same width and breadth of an entire fleet of nin. She's so proficient in taijutsu, she's inadvertently nearly killed the other genin. She's turned playground equipment into weapons and when I tried subduing her with my shadow technique, she overwhelmed it with chakra and broke free. And this is without her even using her Sharingan."

"Oh," Tsunade says. "I see." She and Iruka glance at each other.

It had been a compromise: three days a week, Madara's daughter would stay with her kindergarten class, while on the other days she would go train with a genin team. The team was a typical one, three rookie genin and a jounin instructor, and Madara's daughter was allowed to tag along with them on missions.

"What should we do?" Iruka says. He and Tsunade go over potential other jounin instructors, people with ocular powers who could easily subdue her. "The Hyuuga can't seem to handle her, and all the genin are afraid of her."

Tsunade crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair. "I think I know what to do," Tsunade says.

*****

Kakashi, Obito, and Minato stare at the little girl waving in front of them. "Hello!" she says. "My Sensei says I can come and train with you!"

Kakashi and Minato don't skip a beat. "Hello, ojou-chan. How old are you?"

She holds up five fingers. "Five!" she says. She holds up her dolly. "This is my dolly! She has a pink dress! Can she come train too?"

"You have got to be kidding," Obito says. Kakashi elbows him in the ribs.


	43. Mangekyou Sharingan

"Where is she?" Izuna says. He's glaring beneath his glasses, stomping over to the training grounds. Minato and Kakashi turn.

"Izuna-kun. What brings you here?" Kakashi says.

"I'm picking up my niece. My brother told me to pick her up at 3 o'clock. Where is she?"

Kakashi points. Izuna squints his eyes and sees his little niece and Obito sitting under a tree.

Obito is holding her dolly. A flick of his hand, and his Kamui spins, the dolly disappearing. The little girl squeals and claps her hands as he makes it reappear again. "Again! Again!" the little girl says.

"Oi," Izuna says, and Obito and his niece look up. "He's just messing around with his Mangekyou. You shouldn't be impressed."

Obito ignores him. He turns to the little girl. "Come back tomorrow and I will show you how to use it," Obito says

"Okay!" the little girl says. She jumps up and runs toward Izuna.

*****

"Nii-san. She's training with Obito - are you really okay with that?"

Madara shrugs. "Of all the jounin she could train with, he is the least incompetent," Madara says.


	44. An Observation

It's the weirdest thing, Izuna thinks, as he watches Obito interact with his niece, but Uchiha Obito has the exact same mannerisms as Madara.

It makes sense, when he thinks about it. The guy spent years imitating his brother, he had it honed to a fucking art.

"You're just like my Daddy!" the girl says. Obviously she's noticed the same thing as Izuna. "Are you my Daddy's twin?"

Obito frowns. "Do I look like your Daddy?" Obito asks. The little girl nods her head.

"Kakashi," Obito says, after Izuna and the girl leave, "do I really look like Madara? Without the white hair and the scars, I mean?" Kakashi considers.

"Well I mean, all Uchiha look pretty similar. I think it's all the in-breeding."

"Tch."


	45. Distant Relations

This is what happened when Obito first met Izuna, back when Izuna was first summoned.

Obito sat at the end of the bar, contemplating his drink. He really shouldn't be drinking alone like this - Kakashi had yelled at him about that earlier, but Obito reasoned that since Kakashi had declined his invitation, Obito's drinking alone was technically his fault.

Well. No matter. Circular thinking and subtle manipulation didn't count for much these days, and Obito took a drink, swallowing the bitter liquid and grimacing.

The bell rang, and Obito looked up and saw Uchiha Sasuke coming into the bar.

He was wearing glasses. That was strange. Obito's eyes narrowed.

"I need someone to break change," Sasuke said. He held out a paper bill. Wordlessly a bartender came over to speak with him. Obito watched, silently. There was no way Sasuke wasn't aware of him.

The bartender handed Sasuke his change; he started to rise when he finally saw Obito.

Obito's mouth quirked. "I thought you already left the village. I was wondering when you would acknowledge me."

"Sorry, don't give a shit," Sasuke said. He started to leave.

"Wait," Obito said, and Sasuke turned. "We never got to speak after everything that's happened."

"Tch. Like I would talk to the man who betrayed my brother."

"I may have done a lot of things, but I never betrayed your brother."

"Really, now?"

Obito set down his drink. "He came to me for help, and I was there with him when he annihilated our clan. I was by his side when he joined the Akatsuki. Believe it or not, I was protecting him."

Sasuke knitted his brow. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Of course it was part of the plan, but I would never willingly betray someone if I didn't have to."

Sasuke whirled around. "You were supposed to resurrect my brother at the proper time, but you fucked it up, and then you double-crossed him."

Obito blinked. "What?"

"Are you going to deny it?"

Obito stared. "I never tried...resurrecting Itachi...." Realization dawned on him. His eyes widened.

"You are not Uchiha Sasuke."

"Yeah no shit. Who the fuck is Sasuke?" Izuna said. Obito leaned back in his chair.

The resemblance was uncanny. Same hair. Same sour-faced expression. Even the same type of shirt, which was unzipped at the collar, showing off his chest. If it weren't for the glasses, Obito would just assume Sasuke was just bluffing him, trying to genjutsu his way out of an uncomfortable conversation.

"My apologies," Obito said, watching him. "It's rare to see another Uchiha here. I assume you were an undead soldier who was resurrected?"

"I resurrected myself. The Senju bitch Hashirama was the one who summoned me."

Obito leaned forward. "You are Uchiha Izuna," Obito said.

"The fuck do you know my name?"

"Madara often spoke about you."

Izuna frowned at him. Obito leaned back. "I can see now why he was so taken with Sasuke," Obito said, studying him. "And why he considered me a disappointment. Well. No matter." Obito turned back to his drink. "It was good to meet you, young Uchiha."

"Oi. I'm fucking centuries old. Don't call me fucking young."

"Mm. I will keep that in mind." Obito picked up his cup. He took a long sip as Izuna stormed out.


	46. Team of Morons

"YOOOOOOOOOSH! Get ready for the ultimate team! Me and Fuzzy Eyebrows Sensei and Old Man Madara, dattebayo!"

"Once again, in the springtime of youth!" Gai says, and he and Naruto chest bump each other.

Madara stares at them. "I am in hell," Madara says.

*****

"Sensei!" Lee's face is a waterfall of tears and snot, his lower lip trembling and his buggy eyes streaming. "Why can't I be on your team, Sensei?!"

"Worry not, my adorable pupil!" Gai throws an arm around Lee. "After this mission, we will continue to train!"

"Alright! I got the snacks, dattebayo! And the map, and the mission objectives, and--" Naruto pats his pockets. "Oh crap! Where are the mission objectives?!"

Madara gives them a withering look and holds up the pamphlet. Gai grabs it from him. "Ha ha! Looks like our resident grumpy grump is contributing!"

"Touch me and you will lose that hand," Madara says, just as Gai is about to clap him on the back. Gai and Naruto look at each other.

*****

"Madara-ojiichan. How come you're always in a bad mood, dattebayo?"

Naruto is walking with his hands behind his head, while Gai is running around in circles around them, counting reps and punching the air. Madara gives Naruto a pointed look. "You really need me to answer that question?"

"Is it 'cuz you miss your kids? 'Cuz I heard from Kakashi-sensei that you're pretty much a house husband, and--"

"Do the both of you wish to die? Because I can make that a reality," Madara says.

Gai starts shadow boxing. Madara glares.


	47. Nomination

There is a meeting discussing who will succeed Tsunade as the Sixth Hokage. A few names float around: Might Gai. Hatake Kakashi. A scribe writes their names on a white board while the council discusses the formal nominations.

"What about Uchiha Obito."

They turn. Madara is leaning against a wall at the entrance of the conference room, arms crossed and covered in shadow.

"Madara." The elders look at each other. "You were not invited to this council."

"I had a hand in the founding of this village. Well. You invited neither myself nor Hashirama, so I suppose I can't be too insulted."

The elders frown at each other. "Uchiha Obito has committed many atrocities. He was an S-class missing nin and kage-level threat. He was the one who put in motion the Fourth Shinobi War."

"And it was my understanding he sacrificed himself to end it," Madara says. "Well. I am not surprised. Council idiots would never put an Uchiha to power."

"Madara-sama, a moment--"

But Uchiha Madara is already gone.

*****

Obito is coming back from a mission. It's dark now, and he slowly walks up the metal grate steps to his apartment. He's tired and his body hurts, and all he wants to do is go to sleep after a long, hot shower.

"Obito," Tsunade says, and Obito stops, surprised.

"Tsunade-sama?"

Tsunade smiles. She hands him some papers.

"I have need to speak with you."

*****

"Hokage?" Kakashi turns sharply. Obito is hunched over the bar, a drink in his hand and staring at his glass. "They've nominated you for Hokage?" Obito nods. "Obito...congratulations."

Obito lifts his eyes. Kakashi is beaming beneath his mask. Obito looks back down at his drink.

"I think I'm going to refuse it."

"Why?" Kakashi says, and Obito swirls his drink. He watches the amber liquid swirl, his reflection distorted in the glass.

"Whoever is Fire Shadow is sworn to protect the people of this village." Obito sets down his drink. "I was the one who set the Kyuubi loose. I was the one who nearly destroyed it."

Kakashi falls silent for a moment. And then, "Have you told Sensei?"

"I am too ashamed. I don't want him to know about it." Obito's voice is soft. He doesn't look at him.

Kakashi frowns. "I think you should talk to Sensei," Kakashi says. Obito hunches over the bar, not saying anything. Kakashi shifts forward.

"How long did they give you to make a decision?"

"Until the end of the month," Obito says. His eyes flick upward. "I was told if I refused, the title of Sixth Hokage would go to you."

Kakashi blinks. Obito pours himself another drink. "So," Obito says. He sets down his bottle. "Do you still think I should take it?"

There is the clinking of glass in the background, the sound of a wooden fan turning above them. Kakashi considers.

"Yes," Kakashi says, and his eyes meet Obito's.

"I really think you should."


	48. Uchiha Obito, part 2

Blackness. Obito felt his consciousness start to ebb, the strength of the ten-tails' chakra consuming him.

Kakashi. Sensei. Rin.

It felt like he was in a pool of inky water, which was slowly consuming him.

No!

He would not be consumed! Obito struggled. In his mind's eye, he saw his most precious memories - Rin cheering him on by the sides, him telling everyone how he wanted to be strong so he could be Hokage. There was a photograph of him and his team that had been ripped and shredded, but through sheer force of will, Obito fought the Juubi and put it together again.

Light swirled around him as Obito opened his eyes, the power of the ten-tails chakra finally contained within him.

He was this close to creating a perfect world.

*****

There aren't any other missions scheduled, but Obito doesn't enjoy his days off. While Kakashi is buying erotic fiction and Minato is hanging out with his kid, Obito has nowhere to go other than the training grounds, honing his techniques and thinking of ways to teach their little teammate more about the Sharingan.

"You mean Madara isn't training her?" Kakashi is sitting on a fence, watching as Obito tries to come up with ways to use the Mangekyou without hurting her. Obito kicks a post, a simple side kick, but keeps his leg mid-air, holding the kata in perfect formation.

"Apparently he told her not to use her Sharingan because she has a tendency to overuse it." He slowly lowers his leg, then straightens. "I believe she goes straight to the Mangekyou and the Rinnegan because she doesn't have as firm a grasp on the basics."

"You mean genjutsu and enhanced perception?"

"Correct." Obito twists his body in another slow sideways kick. He punches. "I suspect she's had the Sharingan so long, she has taken for granted its own set of powers. And Madara is too used to using his Mangekyou and his Rinnegan, it is probably difficult for him to dumb it down."

"Hmm." Kakashi leans back, crossing his arms. "You really do make a good teacher. If you never got crushed by that rock, maybe you would have gotten a teaching job like Iruka."

Obito spins and kicks the post again. Kakashi hops off the fence.

"So," Kakashi says. "Have you decided what you're going to do about the Hokage thing, yet?"

Another kick. "I told you. I'm probably going to refuse it."

Kakashi sighs, loudly. "If you're worried you're interfering with some long-seated dream of mine, let me assure you, you're not. I'd only accept the position of Hokage out of an ingrained sense of duty."

A kick. "I doubt the villagers would accept me."

"The villagers don't know what's going on half the time. You'd have to worry about the other shinobi."

Kick. "Thank you for reminding me."

Kakshi tilts his head. "You know, Obito, I used to call you a crybaby elite and make fun of you, but even before you woke the Sharingan, you weren't bad. I was even jealous of your katons."

"What is this? Rare praise from Hatake Kakashi?" Kick. "Of course I wasn't bad. I was just a part of a clan of geniuses, teamed up with the top genin of our class. Anyone would look bad in comparison."

Spin, spin, kick. The post bends. Obito turns. "That took me the better part of twenty years to realize that. A shame I nearly had to end the world in order to do that." He looks at Kakashi's bag. "Another ero novel?"

"Oh yes." Kakashi holds up the book. "This one's called 'Kisses for my Lover.' I hear the plot's derivative but the smut scenes are phenomenal."

"You know most men would rather just watch porn instead of reading it."

"I prefer to use my imagination."

"Hm."

*****

The sun is starting to set, and the village is bathed in a deep, rich orange.

Obito goes to the drugstore to refill his medications. Antidepressant. Pain pill. Migraine prophylaxis. Recently he's been having panic attacks, so his doctor started prescribing Xanax. "It's likely PTSD from the rock falling in that cave," the civilian psychiatrist said. She wrote Obito the prescription. "If you take it, avoid operating heavy machinery. Don't take it with alcohol or mix it with other medications."

Obito walks out of the drug store, clutching his bags.

*****

Nighttime. Obito sits over the table and quickly eats a store-bought bento, sitting in the dark and watching the small television in the corner. It's a movie, some romantic comedy where the plucky heroine goes off to find herself in a small town. Invariably she's engaged to some jerk businessman, but she finds true love in the neighborhood lumberjack she meets after leaving the city.

This annoys him. This isn't love, it's infatuation, and what about her poor fiancé sitting in the city? Why do the writers have to bend over backwards to make him a jerk? Obito frowns at his bento box, then takes a swig of beer.

There is something lurking in the shadows outside.

Obito's eyes narrow. Slowly, he stands up, lowering the volume of the television. There is the sound of something clattering, and Obito strides quickly to his bedroom.

In the dark, the window is open. The light curtains move ominously in the breeze.

There is a weapons rack across the bed, and silently Obito backs up and palms a kunai in his hand. Gripping the handle, Obito carefully edges back out into the hallway.

A black shape darts out, and Obito whirls around.

Obito lunges toward him and attacks, an explosion of power. The man blocks, once, twice, then whacks Obito across the face. There is a sickening crack as the man's fist makes contact, but Obito jerks forward, dodging the next blow and spinning into a kick.

Punch, punch, kick. The man flips Obito over but Obito catches himself, springing back upward and vaulting into a flying kick through the air.

Contact. The man staggers. Obito whirls around and punches hard, once, twice, the third time he misses, the man dodging and hitting him square in the jaw. They stagger into the kitchen, where it's too dark to see. Obito's Sharingan flares. He dodges, lunges forward. The thin light from the movie pulses in the background.

Slam! He shoves a kunai against the assailant's neck, slamming him against the wall.

Obito's heart is thudding fast. Who was this? Was someone trying to assassinate him? He feels his throat constrict, the weight of a thousand boulders strangling him.

He's on the verge of another panic attack.

Obito's jaw tightens. He struggles to keep control, forces himself to slow his breathing. He grips the kunai harder.

And then, his assailant slowly starts to laugh.

"Splendid! _Splendid!_ I should expect nothing less from the man who lived as Uchiha Madara!"

Obito pulls back, shocked. In the dark he hadn't recognized him. Madara's face splits into a slow grin.

"However," a black rod slowly worms out from Madara's arm, then presses menacingly against Obito's stomach, "once again, you have left yourself undefended."

Madara gives him a small poke, then retracts, raising his hands to show him. "Don't get too full of yourself," Madara says. "If I wanted to kill you, I already would have."

Obito lowers his kunai and the two men straighten. Obito's eyes narrow. "What do you want?"

"You are my daughter's teacher," Madara says. "It is only natural that I would want to see you."

On the TV, the heroine coos. " _Oh! I never knew what love is until I met you!_ "

"I heard you were the one behind the Hokage nomination." Obito switches off the TV, flipping on the light. He turns back to Madara. "Why?" Obito says. Madara shrugs.

"I have children in this village," Madara says. "You could say I have a vested interest." Madara looks around. "A bento for one? How pathetic. If I had known you'd have such difficulties finding a partner, I wouldn't have worked so hard to kill your precious Rin."

Obito grabs Madara by the collar and slams him against the wall. "Why?" Obito says. "Why me? Why Hokage? What is it you're trying to do?"

Madara smirks. "It is a shame you have to ask."

"You're trying to find a way to manipulate them."

"Hm."

"What did you do?" Obito says. "Genjutsu them? Use mind-control to manipulate them?"

"I did nothing of the sort," Madara says. He pushes off Obito's arm and dusts off his shirt. "I merely gave them your name. Those simpletons at the council came to the same conclusion." Madara looks around. "This is your apartment?" Obito's eyes narrow.

"What's it to you?"

"It is a bit small, is it not?"

Obito glares.

"I mean no offense. I just remember you not being overly fond of too-small spaces."

"Just tell me what you want," Obito says. Madara turns.

"You've grown strong," Madara says. He looks Obito over. "I'd like to think I had a hand in it." Madara's eyes track over to the grocery bag of medications sitting on the desk.

Obito knows, without Madara having to say anything, that Madara is using his Sharingan to read the medications. Obito stalks over to the desk and grabs the bag.

"Let me spare you the trouble," Obito says, and he dumps the contents of the bag onto the table. "This is an antidepressant. This one is an anxiolytic. This one is for migraines and this one is for the shooting pains I still get in my face and limbs."

"Is that all?" Madara says. "And here I thought you were overly medicated."

"You manipulated me and tried to kill me. I was just a child. And you were a fucking psychotic old man--"

"You make it sound as if I somehow violated you. All I did was give you one small push - I did not inspire anything that wasn't already there."

"Killing Rin was not 'one small push'," Obito says. Madara spreads his hands.

"Agree to disagree, then," Madara says. "Believe it or not, Obito, I believed her death could be negated, so long as we stuck to the plan." Madara turns. His eyes flick upward.

"The world was imperfect," Madara says. "We both wanted the same thing. And if it meant eternal peace, it was a burden we both were willing to bear."

"So even now, you don't regret it?" Obito says. Madara sighs.

"I regret that it was what neither you nor I had wanted," Madara says. He picks up a bottle of medication, glancing at the label, before setting it down again. "I do not regret the original plan."

Obito scoffs. "That's not what I hear you told Hashirama."

"I tell Hashirama a lot of things. It is her own fault if she chooses to believe them." Madara looks around. "Do you have sake in this sorry place, or should we procure it elsewhere?"

Obito scowls. He moves swiftly to the other side of the kitchen and brings out a bottle.

"Ah," Madara says. "Good." He pours himself and Obito a drink."You asked me why I had them nominate you. The answer is quite simple. The Hokage is supposed to be the strongest shinobi in the village. You are my protégé and one of the few Uchiha left. If it is a matter of strength, then the answer is clear."

Madara sets down the bottle, pushing the glass toward Obito. "But you're right to question if I have an ulterior motive, and I do. I'm doing this for my children," Madara says. Obito knits his brow.

"Your children?" Obito says.

"My children are Uchiha in a village that shuns them," Madara says. He crosses his arms. "Don't you know what happened to my daughter?"

Obito sits back, listening. Madara leans forward.

"She was pulled out of her kindergarten class because those idiot teachers at the Academy claim she was bullying the other children. But I spoke to her, and do you know what she told me? She told me they were making fun of her. That her eyes were that of demons and that as an Uchiha she should have died. Those _children_ made my daughter cry," Madara says, and his face darkens. "I would have killed them myself if not for Hashirama."

Obito's brow furrows. "You are telling me to become Hokage...because your daughter was bullied by other school children?"

"I am telling you to become Hokage because this village does not protect the Uchiha, it treats us like second-class citizens.

"I have children, Obito. I have a little girl who loves her school but wonders why the others won't be friends with her. I have two sons who will grow up in a world that will look at them with suspicion and contempt. If there is an Uchiha Hokage, my hope is that it can mitigate that."

Obito watches as Madara plays with the glass in front of him, and realizes Madara is telling the truth. "I want to talk to my Sensei, first," Obito says. Madara scoffs.

"Oh? You mean that yellow-haired weakling you tried to kill when you first attacked this village? Fine. Go talk to your Sensei. But know if you don't accept this position, your true Sensei will be very disappointed."

"Fuck you," Obito says. Madara rises. He starts to leave, but stops by the door.

"For what it is worth," Madara says, and Obito looks up, Madara's back facing toward him, "I do regret everything that happened. We betrayed each other for no good reason."

"I want you to leave," Obito says. Madara turns the door handle.

"I will see you again when I pick up my daughter," he says, and he walks out the door.

*****

Minato is spending the day with Naruto, but he can meet with Obito in the evening. "He's going to get ramen with Iruka. Maybe we can meet for dinner?" Minato says.

The sun is starting to set. Above them, the sound of crows echoes through the otherwise empty street, and the setting light is red and orange. Obito stands at the top of the hill and sees his Sensei walking up toward him. Their eyes meet and his Sensei smiles and waves at him.

They go to a barbecue restaurant on the other side of town. Meat sizzles on the grill, and Minato turns it over with a pair of chopsticks, grilling the other side.

"So," Minato says. He adds more meat onto the grill. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Obito hesitates.

"Sensei," Obito says.

"Hm?"

"They..." the meat sizzles. "They asked me to become Hokage."

Minato's face brightens. "That's great!" Minato says, but Obito lowers his eyes. Minato asks gently, "Why are you not happy?"

"I am happy. I'm flattered I'm being acknowledged, but..." Obito's hands tighten into fists. "But I don't know that I deserve it."

Minato smiles. "You of all people deserve it," Minato says. "You've always worked so hard to be your best, and you always helped other people."

"Sensei I tried to kill your wife and child--"

"I know," Minato says. "But I believe you've worked to atone for it. I know you'd be a great Hokage," Minato says.

The door to the restaurant opens, Naruto and Kakashi walking inside. Naruto sees them and his face brightens.

"Look Kakashi-sensei! It's Obito and my dad! Let's go sit with them, dattebayo!"

Minato turns and Obito quickly wipes his eyes, which are red and swollen. Naruto and Kakashi come over.

"I take it you talked to him?" Kakashi says to Obito. Obito smiles ruefully and nods. Naruto tilts his head quizzically.

Minato beams, proudly. "Naruto. Obito just found out he was chosen to be Hokage." Naruto's eyes widen.

"Eh?! Obito-san is going to be Hokage?!" Naruto's face splits into a grin. He pumps his fist. "That's so cool, dattebayo! Obito-san is gonna be a great Hokage--wait, Obito-san?! You're crying?!"

And Obito laughs, his eyes creasing into two crescent-shaped moons, smiling and wiping his eyes.


	49. The Real Reason

It's the day of the Naming Ceremony, and Madara's daughter is excited. "They're gonna pick a new Fire Shadow!" his daughter says, and she spins around the house yelling at topmost volume, "Fire Shadow! Fire Shadow! Fire Shadow!" She runs up and down the hallway excitedly.

Hashi is supposed to take her to the ceremony, but his daughter insists Madara come with them. "My Sensei is going to be the Fire Shadow, Daddy! I want you to come see him!"

"Your Sensei is an idiot. Why must your father see him?"

"Because it's my _Sensei_ , Daddy!"

Madara cannot think of a good argument not to come, so he loads the other two children up in a wheelbarrow and pushes them through town. His daughter cranes her neck, trying her best to look out through the crowd of gawking civilians who have gathered. Madara sighs loudly, then picks her up, putting her on his shoulders.

"Look, look Daddy!" his daughter bounces on his shoulders. "There's my Sensei! See him?"

"I do," Madara says, and his daughter laughs and kicks her feet excitedly, hitting him in the chest. Hashi bites back a laugh.

"Anata. That was a good thing you did for Obito." It's nighttime now, and Hashi turns and snuggles Madara in bed. "Everyone thinks you're so terrible but you actually have your soft spots."

"Hmph." Madara sniffs. "I had my reasons."

Hashi hugs him. "Because even after all that's happened, you're still fond of him."

"No." Madara starts to laugh. "Because I can tell that over-emotional idiot to take me off that stupid team with the Uzumaki brat and the Taijutsu idiot!"

"Eh?"

Madara's eyes glitter. "Tsunade has long refused to remove me from my keepers. Anyone she would have picked would inevitably do the same. Now that Obito is in power, he can remove me from that team and let me work alone and in peace, the way it should be!"

Hashi frowns. "So, this whole thing you did - the heart-to-heart, the grudging apology, the acknowledgement of each other's strengths and weaknesses - that was just so you wouldn't be watched by Naruto and Gai?"

"YES!" Madara laughs psychotically. "And it worked! It worked all according to plan! Everything fell into place exactly as I wanted! Uchiha Madara will no longer bear the shackles of mediocre idiots! With this I have finally exacted revenge!"

Hashi frowns at him. "You are such an idiot," Hashi says.


	50. Past vs Present

After the battle at the Valley of the End, they went to retrieve Madara's body. Shinobi from both clans descended onto the valley, awestruck at the devastation. Broken bits of earth, forests razed, the Valley of the End was a charcoal waste.

It took some time before they found her, standing alone on the cliffside and looking out into the dark of the horizon.

"Sister," Tobirama said, and she turned slowly. "Sister, what happened? Tell me."

She looked up at him. Solitary figure, cloak still in tatters, she stood against the blood red teardrop of sun that was inching its way into the shadows; everywhere else, the sky was black and thunderous, gusts of wind whipping her hair like war-torn flags.

"I won," she said, and quietly she began to cry.

*****

The meeting takes longer than she expects, and Hashi drums her fingers impatiently on the tabletop, only half listening. As soon as it's adjourned, she jumps up from her seat, throwing her purse strap cross-ways around her chest and rushing out the door.

Madara had completed a grueling night mission, but the meeting was called suddenly, no one was available to watch the kids. Hashi rushes home, mindful that Madara had barely any chakra left when he returned, there was no way he would be able to sequester the babies in his Susanoo like he'd normally do. "Anata?" She opens the door, slipping off her shoes. "Anata, I came as quick as I could--

"What?!" she says, because Madara is lying face down on the tatami mat, the toddler eating his hair and the baby crawling on top of his back. "Are you okay?!"

"I am resting," Madara says, with all the arrogance and gravitas of a shinobi whose power knows no bounds, not a sleep-deprived father whose children are crawling on top of him.

"Where's the girl?" Hashi says, and she watches Madara muster up enough energy to flop his arm over to point. Their daughter is playing outside with his battle fan, whirling it around and throwing powerful gusts of wind against the house.

"I'm so sorry," she says, and she pulls the baby off, sets him on the floor, then tries the delicate task of extricating their toddler from Madara's back. "No no no, Daddy horse!" the toddler says, and Hashi starts to understand what the hell had happened.

The house is a mess. Everything single toy, every single baby-sized weapon, is lying on the ground. The floor is sticky with crumbs and dried juice spills, and the couch is turned upside down.

Outside, she hears the neighbors screaming. Hashi marches over and flings open the sliding door.

"Stop using your Daddy's gunbai as a mace! You're scaring the neighbors!" Hashi says. Her daughter chirps, "Okay, Mommy!" Hashi slides the door closed again. She kneels next to Madara.

"I'm going to transfer some of my chakra to you," she says, and she sets her hands on his back.

"Can we not beat the children?" his voice is muffled. "Can we not lock them into cages like the old days?"

"You don't mean that," Hashi says, and it's only then that she notices the tiny little braids in his hair, courtesy of their daughter, before she got bored and started messing with their weapons. Hashi stifles a laugh.

"Oh no, you look terrible," Hashi says. Madara glares.


	51. Eighty Years

"You're giving up your engagement?"

Tobirama looked in disbelief as Hashi folded her hands at the desk, a serene smile on her face. She nodded. "Please tell Uzumaki-dono I send my regrets, but after everything that happened, I cannot marry him."

"Sister, this isn't wise - we need that strategic alliance with their clan."

"There is a daughter, is there not?" Hashi's eyes flicked upward. "Uzumaki Mito sealed the Kyuubi within herself. Her father has deemed her therefore unmarriageable. You told me she was beautiful once, right, Little Brother?"

Tobirama's jaw tightened. Hashi stood, then walked toward the window.

"I've given so much for this village." Her voice was soft. Slowly she lifted her hand, then rested her fingertips against the window. "I killed the only person I'd ever love. Please, Little Brother. Just let me have this."

Tobirama was silent. He gave her a short nod.

"Okay, Sister," Tobirama said. "I will let the Uzumaki know."

*****

Tobirama and Uzumaki Mito were married within the month.

Hashi loved being an aunt. The children would run into her office, and Hashi would squeal and lift them up by the armpits. She'd use her mokuton to perform silly little tricks, making them laugh. At night, after her many meetings, she would join Tobirama and his family for dinner, trading stories and laughter and playing with their kids.

Some nights were fine. She would go to the Hokage compound, lighting a candle and incense and saying a prayer for Madara and for the ancestors to be kind to him. Sometimes she would speak to her mother and ask that she look over him. "He doesn't have anyone," Hashi would say. "I imagine he'd be as harsh to those around him in the afterlife as he was alive. Please take care of him." She would clap her hands and bow her head, and leave an offering of inari on a small plate in front of the shrine.

She had nightmares. The feel of her sword driving through warm, living flesh. The look of shock on his face that she would actually kill him. Some nights she would dream about their last conversation the mouth of the Valley, her leading the Senju army while Madara stood, ready to raze Konoha just by himself.

Please, she had begged him. Please don't do this. I love you, you're my brother. The two of us are family.

He looked at her with Sharingan eyes. "My family is already dead," he said.

*****

The children grew. Hashi yearned for freedom, and so in her fiftieth year, she granted the title of Hokage to Tobirama.

She started storing her chakra in a small black diamond at her forehead, a technique that would be passed down for generations. The Byakugo no In kept her youthful in appearance. While the men who knew Madara grew old, Hashi stayed preternaturally young.

"My dream," she told Tobirama, who was already along in years and whose face now bore the wrinkles and lines of old age, "is to die old and surrounded by the people who care for me." And many people did love her - her brother and her nieces and nephews, the grandchildren that soon came after. Her days were filled with love and laughter, but at night she would look around herself, see the emptiness of her bedroom, the looming shadows on the wall, and be filled with an aching loneliness.

The passing of time did nothing to ease her regret.

She was eighty years old, though she looked like she was twenty, when she climbed into bed. Curling on her side, she wrapped her arms around a pillow and imagined she was cradling Madara against her. She would brush back the hair from the line of his neck, let her lips find the tender curve of his jaw. She would hold him in their sleep and they would feel content.

They found her body the next morning. The chakra seal had broken, and her once youthful appearance had shriveled into cold skin and brittle bones.

*****

"Anata, can I tell you something?"

"What is it?" Madara asks. Hashi shifts beneath the covers, burrowing herself against him.

"I missed you so much. I used to be so lonely."

"Are you thinking about the old days?" Madara says, and Hashi nods, leaning against his chest. She feels his hand gently rest on her head. 

They make love quietly in the darkness. Afterwards, he lets her sleep curled up against him. Her face is partially hidden, but he can feel the damp wetness of her tears. He gently wipes her eyes with his thumbs and holds her close, kissing her brow before falling asleep. 


	52. Part III: meteors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part III: Obito-centric. Obito adjusts to being Hokage. Hashi resurrects Rin. Obi/Rin. Explicit sections marked.

He tossed the sack on the table. Councilors started, eyes wide and jumping from their seats, as the bag opened and one of the heads started to roll.

"I have killed them," Obito said. "All of them. You will find that I have disposed of all of your problems." 

Obito dumped the heads onto the table without preamble with a sickening thump, and the heads rolled unevenly, matted hair and loose gray skin catching on the smooth wood of the table.

The councilors looked amongst themselves and Yagura stared back at him, the heads of the eight conspirators rolling obscenely on the table. They were roughly the size of bowling balls and just about as heavy. Fibers of severed nerves and ragged muscle hung from vertebrae like raw meat on a leg of ham, and their eyes were open, opaque. To Obito's amusement, the looks on the faces of the councilors were exactly the same: the same muted horror, the same widening of the whites of the eyes.

"Why?" Yagura said. He had the face of a child but the mind of a man, watching Obito distrustfully. "You have no alliance with the shinobi of the mist. Why go through all these lengths to catch my attention?"

"Because we can be of use to each other," Obito said. Yagura's eyes narrowed.

It was a tactical decision, first and foremost: the Akatsuki war machine needed seed money, and the meager offerings from petty jobs weren't enough to stock the war chest that Obito desired. The most expedient way would be to offer his unique set of services, and what better customer was there than a village whose leadership was in constant flux and whose populace was torn in the midst of a civil war?

Then there was the fact that Yagura was a jinchuuriki, an obvious advantage. It was the proverbial killing of two birds with one stone, shoring up the war chest and garnering a tailed beast in the process. That the Blood Mist was also most certainly responsible for Rin's death was only an added benefit, and while Obito knew the costs of involving himself in unnecessary conflict, the thought of exacting revenge proved too tempting to refuse.

"Money?" Yagura's advisers sneered. "All you want is money?"

"Of course," Obito said. "Why else would I offer you my services? And I must advise you," Obito said. "You'll find that no one else has this particular skill set. You would be wise to take advantage."

He was being insolent, but Obito knew that. Among the kiri nin, there could be no deals without an element of bravado and arrogant self-aggrandizing. There was a ripple among the crowd. Obito waited patiently for the jinchuuriki to respond.

"And why should I not kill you here, as a murderer of the shinobi of the mist?" Yagura said. "These are our problems. Our dissenters. Why should I let an outsider help?"

"Because I have done what you and your top men could not do," Obito said. "In the span of a few short days, I have wiped out the leaders of their precious resistance. Consider this my gift. I just want you to know that I am available, should you once again require my services."

"How thoughtful," Yagura said, dryly. Obito gave him a little bow, then turned, pulling up the hood of his cloak.

"Wait," Yagura said, and Obito turned.

"There are still more men," Yagura said.

"As I said," Obito said, smoothly. "Should you require further assistance, I will be happy to help. For a small fee, of course."

Yagura was watching him. There was a sharpness to Yagura's eyes that Obito found easy to manipulate, and Obito waited as Yagura bent an ear to an advisor, who whispered to him, carefully.

"Twelve days," Yagura said. "You have twelve days to deal with the threat. Do as we ask, and we will reward you handsomely. But fail to do so, and you will pay with your life. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Obito said, and Yagura gave him a thin-lipped smile.

*****

The place where Rin died lay just to the east, a few hours by foot along the outskirts of Kirigakure. There, craggy rocks jutted out as if half-hewn from the haggard cliff face of mountains, an empty expanse, as a thick fog settled with the stinging cold. This was where the rebels were now, Yagura's dissenters, and when Obito entered there was nothing but a rush of blurred colors and white noise, and the grayscale of dark that was upended with the sudden starburst of blood.

"Your bloodline limit unnerves me," Yagura said, even after Obito kept his sharingan carefully hidden behind his mask. "What will keep you from turning against me?"

Obito turned. The genocide against bloodline limits was the result of a botched assassination attempt, a bloodline limit shinobi breaking into the palace compound and very nearly killing the Mizukage in the process. Already a paranoid man, Yagura reacted by walling himself off in his palace, letting no one come within ten paces of him and choosing to sit flanked by weapons and guards, before raining down holy terror and setting in motion the bloodline purges.

But it wasn't surprising: jinchuuriki were notoriously unstable, and Obito knew it was this paranoia that made him very easy to manipulate. But first was the matter of trust and Obito if nothing was a stickler for details.

"I do not desire the Bloody Mist," Obito said. "You will find no safer comrade than I."

Obito watched silently as Yagura nodded, and quietly layered a thin genjutsu over his words. Unlike the kyuubi, control of the Mizukage was as easy as controlling any other man, using genjutsu suggestions and subtle manipulation. Controlling the kyuubi was like trying to restrain a wild dog on a fraying leash, and Obito was grateful that the Mizukage was relatively easy.

"Perhaps there are other people you should be worried about," Obito said, and Yagura's head snapped forward, paranoia edging the corners of his eyes.

The next spate of executions did not surprise anyone: Yagura had always been a ruthless man, despite the youthfulness of his boyish looks, and when he one day ordered the execution of all his advisors, no one so much as batted an eye.

Obito watched. From the sidelines, he watched as Yagura ordered the finishing blows, killing the five councilors who witnessed Obito's arrival in the first place. Bodies rolled, blood spurting from wounds in their chests, and quietly Obito fingered the bandage in his pocket, saying nothing and watching the thick syrup of blood pooling on the marble floor.

******

He had the bandage for as long as he could remember: old and frayed, the once pristine whiteness was now tinged with dirt and old blood, the tough canvas cloth softened through years of repeated rubbing between calloused thumbs and forefingers.

He didn't know why he kept it. It served no purpose other than the sentimental reminder of a time when Rin had bandaged up his hand. But he was young then, and foolish, and at the time it seemed to be of utmost importance, saving that scrap of bandage and keeping it in his pocket like a talisman, a charm to keep everything else at bay.

He kept it now, stuffed deep inside his left-hand pocket. Quietly he fingered the rough cloth and looked outward, rubbing the material between the pads of his thumb and index finger. It was more out of habit than anything else; he watched the fog roll and how the thin streaks of watery sunlight crested the horizon, before stuffing the bandage back in his pocket. He turned quietly, fixing his mask and pulling on the hood of his cloak.

The day Rin had bandaged his hand, Obito had cut his hand during a sparring session with Kakashi: he had just narrowly missed the trajectory of a flying shuriken, blocking it with his palm and ducking to the side.

"What did you do?" Rin said, and she grabbed Obito by the arm before he could say anything, staring at the huge cut on his left hand.

They sat on the training bench, Rin holding his hand in her lap and wrapping his wound with white bandages. At the time, Obito was red-faced and embarrassed, but Rin taped the bandages expertly and gave his hand a satisfied squeeze.

"You shouldn't pretend when you get hurt," Rin said.

And then, "Remember that I'm watching you."

He kept the bandage on for two days before Kakashi pointed out his dressings were getting soiled, they needed to be changed, and it wasn't until Kakashi left that Obito discreetly fished out the used bandages from the trash, peeling back the sticky gauze and the parts that were saturated with blood.

He cut the clean parts off, which was still long enough to loop around his hand twice, and he stuffed it in his pockets. Rin had given it to him. Some men carried photos and others carried locks of their sweetheart's hair, but Obito was happy enough to have this memento, a reminder that Rin actually cared about him.

Now he fingered the piece of fabric in his pocket, rolling it between his thumb and index finger and frowning a little at his handiwork: Yagura's top advisor, mutilated, neck snapped and contusions blooming over his chest, while Yagura himself slowly came back to consciousness.

His scar hurt, but Obito ignored it, kneeling beside Yagura and pulling him up from the ground.

"What...what happened?" Yagura said. Obito bowed.

"You killed him," Obito said.

"W-what?"

"I tried to stop you," Obito said, conversationally. "But you could not be reasoned with."

Yagura's eyes widened.

It was not enough to control a man. They must be broken, their spirit and will trampled down until they can be molded like mounds of clay. Already Yagura was remembering the blackouts; periods of time where he could not remember. A normal man would stay forever in his genjutsu but Yagura was a jinchuuriki. He would soon realize just how much he was being controlled.

"I didn't," Yagura said. He slowly sank to his knees. "I couldn't. He was my best friend--"

"Look at your hands," Obito said, and Yagura saw them: the desperate scratch marks, how his adviser had clawed at him, inflicting those wounds. "Is the feeling returning to your fingers?"

And Yagura looked at him, horror-struck.

It did not take much. Yagura's mind broke, snapping under the weight of his horror and guilt, and quietly Obito stepped forward and tipped Yagura's head back. He plied a thin layer of genjutsu and was pleased to see how his eyes rolled back into the sockets, the tension in his body dissipating and going slack. Yagura's body was a house with its walls collapsed on itself, brittle bones and taut skin, and soon enough the hairline fracture of Yagura's fragile mental state gave way and weakened, until everything opened, the cave of Yagura's mind gaping like a torn out eye.

Just beneath the surface, Obito could see Yagura's chakra dampen, the chakra of the Three-Tails simmering quietly.

"Do you remember?" Obito said, and Yagura, the doll, nodded listlessly.

"Yes."

And there was nothing but Obito's words from Yagura's lips, doll's eyes, fixed and unmoving, cold gray skin, bloodless and pale.

*****

His scar was hurting again. Above him, the sky had opened up into a downpour, and the cold dampness of his surroundings aggravated the neuropathic pain.

"Tobi!" White Zetsu said, and he saw the way Obito was guarding himself, the balanced tension in his neck and shoulders. "Oh? Tobi what's wrong? Is your face hurting again?"

"It is none of your concern," Obito said, and Black Zetsu stared at him, as if in rebuke.

_"You have been gone a long time. How long is this supposed to take?"_

"As long as it requires," Obito said. "Nagato already knows of my plans: I am confident he will execute them."

 _"You are wrong,"_ Black Zetsu said. _"They act as freedom fighters. They take part in skirmishes in which they have no involvement. They have not yet captured bijou, nor have they made any plans to."_

"That is fine for now," Obito said. "There is not enough money to fund such missions. Furthermore, I have my hands on the Three Tails. I am only waiting for the right opportunity to exploit him."

"Attaboy, Tobi!" White Zetsu said, but Black Zetsu raised a hand.

 _"We must not delay,"_ Black Zetsu said. _"You have raised enough money already. Why not take the Three Tails now?"_

"It will raise their suspicions," Obito said. "If their Mizukage disappears, they would have every reason to suspect me, and by extension, the Akatsuki. We are not strong enough to weather that threat."

 _"There were talks of a coup,"_ Black Zetsu said. _"Why did you not dispose of the Three Tails then?"_

Obito stopped.

It was Kisame who warned him about Zabuza, and Obito had rewarded him well for that particular tidbit of information. But now Black Zetsu was watching him, and Obito knew, just as well as Black Zetsu knew, that the coup was ample opportunity to leave: he could have had Yagura "escape." The villagers would believe him to be alive while Obito could transport him to the Akatsuki at his leisure. No one would miss him, a deposed kage and tyrant, both.

The mask aggravated him; rain fell, sliding down the sides of the smooth wood, and it was all Obito could do from reaching inside and sooth the pin-prick stinging with his hand.

"I do not answer to you," Obito said. "The Moon's Eye Plan will take effect. It will just time. Patience. And I promise you, your precious Madara will be brought back."

He let his words linger, Sharingan turning, as if he could cut daggers with his eye.

He bled their country dry. He funneled money into the Akatsuki's war chest and ruthlessly killed any and all who opposed him. He took particular glee in this, because they killed Rin and because this had furthered his plans.

And yet. This was not what he wanted. He had taken a small measure of revenge, but he knew his ultimate goal was still much higher.

 _"Just remember,"_ Black Zetsu said. _"We are always watching."_

"Then watch," Obito said, throwing Rin's words back at them, then watched with satisfaction as they melded back into the wall.

*****

"Mizukage-sama! Please!"

The man screamed, the chains above him rattling as the guards seared the hot iron into the man's flesh. He was the man directly responsible for the attack on Kakashi and Rin. Months of careful research and planning had brought him to this, and Obito relished in his vengeance. The smell of smoke and charred skin was sickly sweet in Obito's nostrils, but the thin genjutsu net kept anyone from seeing him; they saw only Yagura, impassive and unmoving, as the man who likely engineered Rin's death screamed and writhed in pain.

"Please," the man said. "Mercy!" Another stab; the man cried out again, agonized. Obito let Yagura step forward.

Blood and vomit trickled from the corners of the man's lips, which were cracked and peeling at the sides, and a thin sheen of sweat covered the man's head. Slowly the man's mouth and face began to move, a paroxysm of pain and supplication, and his lips twisted into a grotesque parody of human speech.

"Mizukage-sama," the man said. He sniveled. Wretched human being. "Please."

"Kill him," Yaguara said, and the man's eyes widened.

"Mizukage-sama! Wait--"

The sword sliced through him like a satchel of wine. Blood spattered onto the paving stones and dripped from the wounds in his belly, the puddle of blood catching the light of the torch like a reflection on water.

His scar hurt. Nothing made it go away.

*****

There were talks of a rebel fighter, a woman with two bloodline limits. Terumi Mei, a survivor of the bloodline purges. Quietly Obito made note of his newest threat, and decided it would be prudent to let her win.

She attacked the compound. Obito waited while Yagura's men tried to put up a fight, before slipping away in darkness, taking Yagura with him. The former Mizukage was quiet and surprisingly docile, and when he removed the Three Tails, it was surprisingly easy to control.

The Kyuubi was not easy to control. Unlike Madara, who broke and rode the Kyuubi at will, Obito had only one eye, and he could barely restrain the beast, who was newly released and thrashing for freedom. The Kyuubi reared and bucked and thrashed against his control, and it took all of Obito's powers to keep the Kyuubi subdued. Afterwards, when the whole debacle with Minato and the re-sealing occurred, Obito removed his mask and was surprised to feel it, the thin trickle of blood rolling down the corner of his eye.

The Three Tails, however, was a completely different matter, and Obito had no problems at all subduing it. Around him, the monster groaned and heaved and thick waves of chakra got sucked up into the dark; it was only then that Yagura's body fell, limp and lifeless, careening against the jutting rocks and landing with a dull thud.

"Are you satisfied?" Obito said, and Black Zetsu said nothing, melting into the walls.

*****

There were talks of genocide. Half-whispered rumors swirling among the ANBU nin. Obito had eyes and ears reaching the farthest corners of the world, and he was not surprised when he heard the Uchiha were threatening to rebel, and the Leaf was considering taking action.

Konoha. Even now, the name stuck in his chest like swallowed pieces of old dried bread, and it incensed him, the threat of violence against his clan.

 _"Where are you going?"_ Black Zetsu said, and Obito threw him a look.

"Konoha," Obito said, and he fixed his gaze forward.

He planned on making war. Tear down the village that killed Rin and would wipe out his clan. "The Kyuubi is there," Obito said. White Zetsu smiled and Black Zetsu didn't say anything, just watched as Obito pulled on his traveling cloak.

*****

He was intercepted by the unlikeliest of people.

The morning was cool and the sky was still dark when Uchiha Itachi found him, and Obito couldn't help but notice the dark, desperate look in Itachi's eyes, Sharingan turning like slow-burning coals. "Will you help me?" Itachi said.

Obito looked at him. He was, as all Uchiha are, a beautiful child, long neck curved like the edge of a scythe. The Sharingan peered out from wisps of bangs in the murky half-light, and silently, Obito counted the ways in which he could destroy him.

"You are asking me," Obito said, slowly, "If I will help you destroy our clan."

It was not a question. Itachi nodded.

"Yes," Itachi said.

"Why?" Obito said.

"I wish to challenge myself," Itachi said. "To measure my capacity. What better way than to challenge Konoha's elite? And I'm sure you have many grievances against our clan."

"You will have to think of a better lie," Obito told him, and Itachi's eyes widened imperceptibly. "A would-be psychopath would not have the foresight to ask for help. How old are you?" Obito said.

"Fourteen," Itachi said.

"I see."

Leaves rustled. A crow flew, its feather floating silently down.

*****

He stood at the edge of a cliff face and looked down on his handiwork. Drenched in moonlight, the Uchiha quarter burned. Smoke rose. Orange flames licked the violet sky, and it almost looked beautiful. A world destroyed and remade.

When it was over, Itachi had staggered and retched and vomited into the river when he thought no one was looking, but Obito saw everything. Saw him crying in front of his parents and saw him spare his brother's life. Itachi had that same look as he did now, haggard and drained, both eyes red and puffy. But when Obito approached, Itachi looked at him with a studied hardness, face bone-white against the dark line of trees.

"So?" Obito said, and he could not keep out the bitterness in his voice. The mocking. "Did you measure it? Your capacity?"

And Itachi said nothing. Obito watched as the boy's shoulders shook. An internal struggle to keep control.

Rage. It came and crashed down on him like the weight of a thousand boulders, and he wanted nothing more than to snap, break, tear the world that would have a child burn up in the center of phoenix flame, the injustice of forcing a fourteen-year-old boy to shoulder the elders' manifold sins.

He pulled out Rin's bandage. He twisted the fabric tight around his knuckles, wrapping it twice and pulling hard, until the edges started to cut into the flesh of his hand.

*****

That night, Obito laid out the things he kept with him since childhood:

The first was the bandage. Hopelessly sentimental, but he allowed himself the indulgence.

The second was a small action figurine his parents had gotten him, their first and only gift. They had died a few months later, in the war.

The third was a picture of Rin, meticulously cut from the remnants of their team photograph, which Obito had destroyed in a fit of despair and confusion: afterwards, when the drumming of his heartbeat had settled and his vision was no longer cloudy, he spent hours on the floor piecing back the ripped pieces and taping it together, much to the Zetsu's amusement.

The fourth was a note, which Obito used to keep tucked away behind the picture frame of the team photo. It was right after he had gotten beat up by Gai during his first attempt at chuunin exams: he had been embarrassed and sulking and he didn't want to talk to anyone after that. He found it folded up and shoved unceremoniously in his locker, written in bright blue pen:

_Dear Obito,_

_That was probably the worst fight  
I've ever seen, but that's okay :3  
You never gave up._

_That's your best quality. Keep at it  
and please cheer up :-)  
\- Rin_

And she signed her name with a heart next to it.

At the time, Obito had been torn between feeling mortified and ecstatic, because Rin took the time to write to him but also because she noticed how much he sucked, but he kept the note anyway, conflicting emotions aside.

Now Obito spread the note out on the ground, re-reading it. The note had been folded and re-folded so many times the creases were starting to tear into the paper, and the edges of the note were soft and careworn. Carefully, Obito laid them all out in a row, the note, the bandage, the photo and the figurine. He laid them out with quiet reverence, pausing to touch either the little figurine or the note or the pieced-together photo.

He started a modest fire. In the flames, the edges of the photo and the note blackened and curled, the figurine beginning to bubble up on itself, melting slowly with dripping plastic. It was only after some time that Obito decided to keep the bandage, plucking it out from the flame and smoothing the charred fabric, which had begun to curl and fray under his fingers.

The fire crackled. Embers rose on the up-current, kissing the nighttime air, and Obito watched, the fire reflecting in his eyes, and wondered when his heart too would shrivel up like so much paper.

******

Zetsu reported the Akatsuki's movements. They were fighting a war, then they were fighting another war. They acted as soldiers of fortune, fighting the good fight, an obvious holdover of Nagato's good intentions. Most if not all the missing nin on the Akatsuki's roster were doing it for the money, but Nagato ran the organization like they were Ame Freedom Fighters, furthering political agendas and overthrowing tyrannical rule.

"Why has this not been done?" Obito asked, when Nagato and Konan met him on the outskirts of Amegakure, rain falling like battering rams against the side of the cave. "In all the years of the Akatsuki's service, and you have only one bijou: the Three Tails, which I had captured myself."

"I apologize," Nagato-as-Pein said, the Tendo Pein's purple eyes sliding up to meet his. "There is much injustice in this world. We only seek to rectify it."

"You are floundering," Obito said. "There is no saving the trash that's collected on this world. I seek to end it," Obito said, and he turned, a sharp rebuke:

"Get me the bijou, and I swear to you, this will end all war."

Itachi joined the Akatsuki, thinking he infiltrated Obito's organization. Pein might not have known, and neither did the other members, but Obito was well aware of Itachi's furtive messages, sent by hawk to Danzou in secret.

It did not matter. To control the bijou, one needed a working pair of Sharingan, and Itachi was a missing nin. He would do nothing to jeopardize his cover.

******

He clapped his hands and spun into a pirouette, laughed loudly and proclaimed some singsong nonsense about how killing thirty men was a lot of fun, but Deidara was horror-struck and Kisame was standing silent, and the thick, sickly smell of blood and bodies rose up from the ground.

"Why do you act like that?" Nagato asked him one day, when they were standing alone at the mouth of the cave.

"Because you are the leader," Obito said. "I cannot have them suspecting me."

He didn't tell him that acting the fool allowed him to keep a close eye, and the Moon's Eye Plan went back on track, and the next day, Itachi and Kisame dragged in another bijou.

That night, he looked at himself in the mirror. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with black circles, and the scars on his face were still angry, jagged. Uneven patches of skin sewn together and knitted to bone, splayed outward like a crater of broken rock, and silently he wondered if Rin were to see him, if she'd be afraid.

*****

This was what he imagined:

Small hands would come to touch the back of his head, coming close to his hunched figure sitting on the bed. She would be standing. Her body would be a dark shape against the moonlight of the window, and she would stand close beside him, letting him bow his head to touch her chest. They would stay like that for a moment, Rin's hands on the nape of Obito's neck, his forehead against her sternum, eyes closed and nudging his cheek against the soft space between her neck and shoulder.

_Dear Obito,_

_That was probably the worst fight  
I've ever seen, but that's okay. You  
never gave up. That's your best quality.  
Keep at it and please cheer up._

And it felt like this: a gentle palm at the back of his neck.

A warm hand, comforting and squeezing the back of his shoulder.

*****

He was furious. Nagato was dead and Konan defected, and Obito just sat and seethed with a slow-boiling rage. There was no way to bring back Rin now, now that Nagato let himself die by using the Rinnegan.

"Tobi? What's wrong?"

He killed the Zetsu without even blinking, neck snapping and body slamming against the wall with a dull thud.

*****

The fight with Konan did not go as he had planned.

Rain fell, and Obito stood, water rolling off his torn cloak and shoulders. His scar hurt and the ache was deep-seated and familiar, and reflexively he reached his left hand in his pocket, to finger the scrap of fabric tucked in there.

But there was nothing. Obito's eyes widened a moment, when he realized he must have lost the bandage in the explosion.

After the killing spree in Kirigakure, after Obito had spent the night crying into Rin's body, he dragged himself to the cave where the Zetsus were staying, and asked if he could take a bath. His body was sweaty and sticky and old dried blood stuck within the crevices of scars, and Obito longed to stand beneath the comforting spray of warm water.

He looked at himself in the mirror. Scars marred the right side of his face, and his one eye was bloodshot, hair falling over his shoulders in matted curls. Without the scar, Obito had the exact likeness of Uchiha Madara: the same gaunt face, the same tired expression. The same bruises making dark circles under his eyes.

He cut his hair in the sink with the blade of a rusted knife, yanking out fistfuls of hair and letting them fall around him. One harsh cut. Another. Tufts of hair fell in large clumps on the floor and sink, and Obito hacked it off unevenly, almost violently, angry clumps of hair sticking along the sweat of his forehead and face.

Because she was dead, she was not with him. He thought of cold skin and wide, wet eyes; her body, a heavy weight in his arms, bent and broken like a torn up doll's.

Warmth. It filled the back of his one good eye and filled his vision with a cloudy haze, and it was as if the events of the last few years finally spilled over: because his body was battered and his soul was split, and her bandage was torn away from him like a gouged-out eye or a broken limb, the hole in his heart that would never fully heal.

*****

Her gravestone was smooth, brushed free of the falling snow that had started to settle on the ground. It was the first and last time Obito would visit her here, standing over her nameplate in his mask and traveling cloak. Visitors had just left flowers here, the petals glistening in a darkness that seemed suffused with lonely starlight. His Rinnegan turned, remembering.

Obito had seen much. He had seen armies rise and nations fall, the drum-beat cadence of civilizations booming and bursting like burnt out stars, and he reminded himself that there was no pain. Only the clarity of purpose to light his way.

In the cold, his scar ached. Quietly, Obito adjusted his mask, letting the tips of his fingers trace the edges of pitted scars, before pulling up the hood of his traveling cloak, his Sharingan spinning, the swirl of the kamui teleporting him far, far away.


	53. Online Dating

Izuna sits at the table. Behind his glasses, his Sharingan is active, a glare on his face as he reads closely the expressions of his enemy combatant.

"So," the kunoichi says. She sips on her boba tea, smiling. "I read your profile. It says you're looking for a relationship?"

"Yes." Izuna narrows his eyes pointedly. "I intend to find a female nin who will take my seed and help me restore the Uchiha clan."

The kunoichi blinks. "Eh?"

"You seem sufficient. I'd like to mate with you and bear children with you. We need not interact after that, but I expect you'll raise our children in my stead."

"Um, eto...."

Hashi jumps out from behind the bushes.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She grabs Izuna by the arm. "My little brother's kind of an idiot, he doesn't mean anything by it!"

Behind the bushes, Izuna scowls. "What?"

"What? What do you mean, what? You can't just tell a random date you want someone to take your seed and have your children! You'll scare them off!"

Izuna's eyes narrow. "If I remember correctly, that's how Nii-san managed to woo you."

Hash shakes her head. "That's different--"

"How?" Izuna says. Hashi claps her forehead.

At Hashi's insistence, Izuna shows her his dating profile.

"Huh," Hashi says. In Izuna's profile picture, his face is cropped out; instead he's just lifting his shirt, showing off his abs.

"I was told showing off your best attributes would be the best way to garner matches," Izuna says.

Hashi clicks on his profile. "Who told you that?" Hashi says. The last she'd heard, Izuna didn't really have friends.

A beat. "I read it on a forum."

"...Oh."

She clicks his profile.

UCHIHA MALE SEEKING KUNOICHI FOR MATING PURPOSES  
CLEAR SKIN, GOOD COMPLEXION, NO AKIMICHI NO FATTIES  
I HATE PLAYING GAMES AND DON'T LIKE DRAMA  
YES I'M PICKY BUT I CAN AFFORD IT

And then a bunch of faceless bathroom selfies showing off his abs.

"Uh," Hashi rubs her neck. "This is...this actually gets you dates?"

Izuna's eyes narrow. "They think I'm funny and ask if I'm 'for real.'"

"Huh. Okay."

Later that night, she shows Izuna's profile to Madara.

"He is being direct and to the point. I do not see the problem," Madara says.

"Wait, seriously? Anata, this is a train wreck. His profile is insulting and half his pictures are just photographs of his reflection in the mirror."

"Hm, you are right. I will tell Izuna to include pictures of his neck and biceps. It is my understanding women find that attractive."

Hashi blinks. "You are so lucky I already liked you," Hashi says.


	54. Online Dating, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature language, graphic description of dick pics

Izuna sits across from his date at the table.

Madara watches. His little brother, a man who awakened the Mangekyou Sharingan and brought the entire Senju army to its knees, glares awkwardly at the kunoichi sipping on her bubble tea.

Madara yanks Izuna by the arm.

"Watching you is painful. I will show you how to talk to a woman," Madara says.

Izuna blinks. Madara scowls and crosses his arms.

Izuna waits. Madara starts. He begins to speak, then stops. He starts again, then reconsiders.

"Nii-san?"

"You know he doesn't have much more experience than you do," Hashi says, helpfully.

"Quiet," Madara says. He takes a breath. "Perhaps a bit of roleplay will suffice."

"Roleplay?" Izuna says. Madara sighs again.

"I cannot believe I am about to do this," Madara says. His Sharingan turns. He claps his hands.

" _Sexy no Jutsu!_ "

"Eh?" Hashi says, and Madara disappears under a puff of smoke. In his place is a sultry, dark-eyed kunoichi with luscious hair.

"Wow!" Hashi says. "Anata you're gorgeous!"

"Naturally." Madoka's voice is a seductive alto. "Now, Little Brother. Try your best to seduce me."

Izuna scowls. Hashi raises her hand.

"Um, ano, anata--"

"What is it, Hashirama?"

"Could you, maybe, do your Sexy no Jutsu with me, sometime?"

"Hmph. Calm yourself, woman. I am only using this form with Izuna."

"...Oh."

"But perhaps if you are good, I will consider it."

"Yay!"

"Ugh," Izuna says. Madoka leans forward. Izuna screws up his face, determinedly.

"You look fertile. I wish to mate with you and give you my seed," Izuna says.

Hashi watches. Madoka's eyes narrow.

"Hashirama, his delivery is fine, I do not see the problem."

"You've got to be kidding me," Hashi says.

Izuna muses. "Maybe I should send those fabled 'dick pics' as well?"

"I agree, the people of this time require proof of your virility." Madara poofs back to his original form. "Showing off your physical attributes is a surefire way of getting a mate. I would recommend keeping yourself covered, however. It should be sufficient to show the outline of your bulge."

Hashi stares at them. "How are you both so stupid?" Hashi says.


	55. Girlfriend

"Ne," Hashi says. "Do you think it's possible to bring back a spirit of someone who died as a child, but have them come back grown?"

Madara scoffs. "Of course it is," Madara says. "You need only clone a grown body for them inhabit."

"But mentally, would they still be a child, though?"

Madara looks at her. "What are you thinking," Madara asks.

Hashi claps her hands. "I want to resurrect Nohara Rin so Obito can have a girlfriend!"

Madara starts coughing. "Woman, what--"

"I brought back Izuna, didn't I? And that was without a body, we could just exhume her remains here--"

"Woman, first of all, there is no way to know if she would actually 'date' my idiot protégé, more than likely if she were to see him, wallowing in his pathetic apartment and subsisting on convenience-store cup ramen, she wouldn't at all be attracted to him--"

"Huh."

"--And secondly, she was just a girl when she died. So even if you brought her back, that whole point is moot."

"Eh...." Hashi leans back. "It's true, her body died when she was just a teenager, but her spirit lives on, right? Obito even said he spoke to her on the other side, she said she was always watching him. She's been his guardian spirit--"

"Tch."

"Look at Izuna!" Hashi says. "Izuna hates me because he remembers all the things you told him when you used to pray for him. He was your guardian spirit - he was watching over you all this time."

"And?"

"And it's the same with Obito and Rin. Her body may have died when she was young, but her spirit is the same age as him." Hashi sits back.

"He just seems so lonely," Hashi says. "I just want him to have the same happiness we do. I just want to help him."

Madara frowns. "I don't think that's possible for him."

"Well it's your fault he's like this. You kind of owe him."

"And who else are you going to bring back? The mother of the Uzumaki brat? The hapless Hyuuga Obito killed? Izuna was able to restore himself because he has the Sharingan, that won't be the case for anyone else."

"Hm. I guess you're right," Hashi says. She frowns.

"I guess I should go replace the body, then--"

"What?" Madara says.


	56. Girlfriend, part 2

There is a spot of dried ash on the table from where Hashi had placed Rin's femur. She didn't dig up the whole body - just enough to tether her spirit before summoning her. Madara rolls his eyes and helps her toss the bone back into the grave.

"I cannot believe you disinterred her body," Madara says. He shovels with purpose, throwing dirt onto the hole in the grave. "Feckless! Irresponsible! Impulsive! You of all people should know better than to engage in this sort of lunacy."

"Well I mean," Hashi shovels another mound of dirt, "I am two for two currently."

"So you modified the jutsu to bring her back to life fully?"

"Mm." Hashi shovels more dirt. "Instead of an undead zombie, she'd come back as flesh and blood. I could do that by modifying my Mokuton."

"Creating life out of chakra, I see." Another shovelful of dirt. "It would have been an interesting experiment."

"Well I wrote out the hand seals and the summoning formation, if you want to see it."

Madara nods. "I've always taken you for someone who relied on raw power alone. I'd be curious to see how you apply actual theory with it."

They pat the ground flat and head back home.

****

"Izuna." Madara and Hashi slip off their sandals. "We are home."

"Daddy!" Their daughter runs to the door. "I brought that lady back to life, Daddy!"

Hashi and Madara whirl around.

"Um." Nohara Rin clutches a towel around her body. "Hello."

In the kitchen, Izuna scowls.


	57. Just So We're Clear

"So you remember everything, right? Obito said you watched over him," Hashi says.

Rin nods. Her hands clasp in her lap. "Obito and I bonded because we were both orphans. After I died, he was the only one who lit a candle and talked to me." Rin traces the table cloth with her fingertips, remembering. "I was so worried about him. I kept watching over him to make sure he was all right. When he died, our spirits were reunited. But then he was sucked back into the void again."

"That's when I resurrected him," Hashi says. Rin nods. "How much do you know now?"

"He lit a candle for me the other night, and told me he was named Hokage."

Hashi claps her hands. "So you do remember!"

"...Hai."

"So, spiritually, you're the same age as him!"

"....Hai."

"I told you!" Hashi turns to Madara. "I'm not resurrecting some teenage girl."

"Tch."


	58. Girlfriend, part 3

"Rin-chan, let me show you something!"

"What is it?" Rin says. Hashi motions for her to follow.

"Do you know what this is?" Hashi says. She steps proudly to the fridge. "This is a refrigerator! It keeps things cold through something called 'electricity' - it's like chakra generated through wires!"

"Moron. Nohara Rin was alive in this era, she knows what a refrigerator is," Madara says. Hashi looks around.

"Do you know what a computing machine is?"

Rin blinks. "Computing....machine?"

"It connects to something called the 'internet' where you can look things up and post 'cat memes.' Do you know how to type?"

"Um." Rin looks down, timidly. "I could type a little."

"Ooh! Well in this era everybody types, so. That's probably something you'll have to work on."

"Izuna," Madara says. "How is it that you let my daughter resurrect that girl? Why were you not watching her?"

Izuna glares. He had been taking selfies in the bathroom.


	59. Nohara Rin

"I'm so tired, Rin." His voice was soft. He hunched over. "I don't know if I'll be able to bring you back."

In the darkness, Obito was sitting at the edge of the bed, gritting his teeth and pressing a fist to his eye. He had just realized that he had lost Rin's bandage, the absence of which sent him spiralling. His plans were off-track and his subordinates had betrayed him. She couldn't see his face, but she did see the trickle of wetness catching the moonlight, a frustrated tear dripping down the side of his chin.

Rin sat down next to him. He couldn't see her and he couldn't consciously sense her presence, but she knew if she pressed her hand against his back, what little chakra she could muster would soothe him. She leaned against his body and she felt his muscles relax. Rubbing the tips of her fingers against his nape, she waited for him to calm himself, to wipe his eyes and stop crying.

His actions used to horrify her, but strangely she had gotten used to it. They were shinobi, trained killers who went on missions for their village. Obito believed he would remake the world, that the people he killed could be brought back with the Moon's Eye. Rin had no choice but to believe in him, too.

Something blurry seemed to solidify and gain shape from the wall.

" _Obito. It seems you've lost control._ " Black Zetsu snaked out as Obito straightened. Rin could see what the Black Zetsu could see: Obito's back, which slowly straightened. His head lifting and him projecting an almost eerie calm.

"It doesn't matter." He took on Madara's voice. It was a coping mechanism, a way to divorce himself from the things going around him. "I have already taken care of Konan. Nagato is dead. I will just retrieve the eyes myself."

" _Nagato was supposed to use his eyes to revive Madara, and yet you've failed him._ "

"Madara is dead," Obito said. He placed his mask back on. He turned. "We can achieve the Moon's Eye without him."

Black Zetsu started to melt. " _Very well,_ " Black Zetsu said, and he disappeared into the wall. " _We will be watching_."

Obito laughed, bitterly. "Then watch," Obito said.

The room was silent. Rin stood at the corner and waited while Obito collected himself.

"Fuck," Obito said, in his normal voice. He sniffed then stood, rubbing his arm.

*****

"Rin-chan, I have these extra clothes here, I think they might fit but they might be a little tight in the bust." Hashi walks into the bedroom, a pile of clothes draped over her arm.

Rin looks at herself in the mirror. Her reflection doesn't surprise her so much - she supposes her concept of self had aged along with Obito - but the flesh and bone of an actual body is jarring to her. She used to be like air, and now she has heft and takes up physical space. Hashi steps around behind her.

"My hair is long," Rin says. She touches the brown locks, which fall below her shoulders. "Can we cut it?"

"Of course, Rin-chan! Want me to cut it for you?"

"If you don't mind." Rin frowns at herself in the mirror.

Her memories are still jumbled. She remembers Obito joining her, and for a brief moment, she was happy. They could finally ascend to a higher plane of existence, but suddenly his soul was ripped away from her. "I, uh, resurrected him," Hashi explained. She rubbed the back of her neck. "It was kind of a happy accident."

Now Rin pulls on her shirt, tugging it down while Hashi steps around her with a kunai. "Okay, Rin-chan! Let's cut your hair."

"Moron. Use scissors," Madara says. Hashi furrows her brow.

"What are 'scissors'?"

Madara holds up a pair of child safety scissors, the kind his daughter used in school.

"So you've been watching over him all this time?" Hashi's voice floats as she snips Rin's hair. Snip snip snip. Rin nods.

"I died. I remember seeing a flash of white, but Obito was crying. And in the confusion I wanted to make sure he was alright."

Snip. "Was he?" Hashi snips quickly. She pauses as Rin shakes her head.

"He was crying." Rin frowns as she remembers it: Obito covered in blood and clutching her body, the plant-like white vines jutting out through the darkness like trees. "He cries easily when he's upset. Kakashi used to make fun of him for that." On her lap, her hands close into fists. "The only way he could keep going was to pretend he was Madara and that he had no weakness." Rin pauses. She looks at her reflection in the mirror. "He suffered all these years with no one to comfort him."

"You really love him, huh Rin-chan?"

Rin blushes. "Oh...well..."

Hashi grins. "I'll bet he'll be really happy to see you!"

"Mm." Rin smiles, looking down and blushing. Hashi laughs, shaking Rin's shoulder.


	60. rise and fall (explicit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sexual content, fantasized underaged/teenage sex, puberty, masturbation, loss of virginity, fellatio, angst
> 
> Non-explicit, abridged version on my FFN.
> 
> Note: I was imagining the older male seiyuu from Shippuden episodes 119-120 voicing teen Obito when I wrote this, not the Naruto-sounding seiyuu they used in later episodes.

The first time Obito had an erection, he was sitting in class: their sensei was writing on the chalkboard and Obito didn't know exactly what was happening, except his penis was hard and it was strange to him, and he batted it back and forth, puzzled.

It was only after a few moments of bewildered exploration that Obito realized Kakashi was watching him. He had the same blank bored expression on his face he always had, and when Obito glanced up, Kakashi just shook his head and turned around.

  
*****

  
Puberty was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

His voice cracked. He was awkward and clumsy but now he was all thin legs and no torso and his penis seemed to have a mind of its own.

He had erections at the most inopportune times: during the class photo where they were making Obito stand in front; during a training session with a particularly strong breeze and too-tight gym shorts. But he started having them the most when he was looking at Rin, and pretty soon he was used to carrying large books and backpacks to hide his lap.

Rin never noticed, and Obito was thankful she never questioned why he always seemed to be hefting large bags of groceries whenever he was around her.

  
*****

  
She was his best friend. He liked to think the feeling was mutual, and he was pretty sure it was, because she smiled and laughed and gripped his hand, and she was grinning wide when she told him he was like a brother to her, closer than family. She didn't mind spending time with him. Even when he felt stupid and lonely, she cheered him up and he made her laugh, and they enjoyed each other's company, even if half the time she was gushing about other boys who were better than him.

He masturbated to her photograph, because he was lonely and impulsive and that was the only thing he could get off to.

His breathing was harsh, ragged, as he fisted himself. Already the picture frame was starting to fog up, but Obito kept at it anyway, cheek pressed to the glass and straining against his hand. They had taken a team photo just a few days before: Rin had insisted, dragging them all to the photobooth and smiling, widely. She had her arms around both him and Kakashi, and when the camera blinked, she pulled them all close; he could smell the shampoo in her hair.

Rin. His penis swelled and Obito strained against his hand, the picture frame digging into his cheek. Earlier that day, Obito had lost another match. This time, Kakashi was the one to deal the finishing blows, the sharp end of a tanto blade slicing against the meat of his arm. After the match, Obito slunk behind the bleachers at the training grounds, nursing the cut on his arm when Rin came up to sit beside him.

"Let me see," Rin said, and Obito lowered the ice pack to show her: the whole lower part of his face was bruised, the tender swell of his lower lip throbbing painfully. Rin frowned and dug through her medical pack, pulling out antiseptic and gauze and reaching up to gently daub at his wounds.

Obito didn't say anything. He didn't know why she was still sitting with him, even though he was pretty sure he was the laughing stock of the entire shinobi class.

He hated it. Heat rose to his cheeks and he was intensely aware of how close Rin was sitting, how her small fingers curled around the tender bones of his wrist.

"It wasn't that bad," Rin said, because she was a girl and girls could read minds, and even though he liked that she was spending time with him, he didn't like that it was because she felt sorry for him. "Do you want me to stitch that up?"

She had taken his arm again, and dumbly Obito sat beside her. She opened her pack and pulled out a straight suture, holding his arm against her lap.

"You need to tell me when something's wrong."

He was close to coming. His penis swelled and Obito strained against his hand, the picture frame digging into his cheek. Quickly he grabbed a fistful of tissues and covered the head of his penis when he came, pleasure twitching, jets of cloudy fluid spurting into his hand.

  
*****

  
A secret:

Obito slept with a pillow balled up under his face. He would hug it and pretend it was Rin. After he jerked off, he wiped his hands and laid back on the bed, hugging the pillow and pretending that he was cuddling her.

  
*****

  
The Zetsus weren't exactly known for their privacy, but they weren't paying attention to him now, and Obito was fairly certain they were asleep. The Zetsu equivalent of sleep, at the least.

He was used to masturbating with his right hand, but because it was bound and bandaged Obito had to awkwardly stroke himself with his left. It was difficult; the cast dug into the side of his thigh and when he tried to strain upwards, the stitches in his hip and right arm popped, and his left hand wasn't at the angle he was used to; he had to curve his arm around, trying to get the same pressure and the same feel, but it wasn't the same and his breathing tightened, desperate to get off.

He was about to come when he heard the Zetsus ambling behind the tree. "Hey, Tobi!" they called, and Obito scrambled, except that he was in a cast and his right arm was bandaged, and he couldn't quite hide his exposed wilting cock fast enough. "Oooh! What's that? What are you doing?"

"Are you taking a dump?"

"None of your business!" Obito said, but the Zetsus were staring at him, curiously.

What began was a long, awkward conversation about masturbation and how touching yourself can feel good, except Obito was embarrassed and he didn't want to keep answering their questions; he soldiered on, though, because he knew if he didn't, they'd probably sit down in front of him and ask to watch.

(The Zetsus didn't judge though, they were just curious, and he got comfortable enough about the subject to speak freely about it. It wasn't until one of the Zetsus asked the obvious - "How come you can't just put it inside her?" - that Obito stopped and sputtered and said that's enough of those questions, for now.)

  
******

  
He fantasized about their reunion.

She would hug him. She would run up to him and throw her arms around him, and the weight of her momentum would make him lose his balance. She would cry and laugh and nuzzle her head against him because she thought he was dead, and he would muster up the courage to tell her, to man up and tell her exactly how it is he feels.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Her lips looked soft. Once, she had dropped a stick of cherry chapstick on the training grounds, which Obito had furtively picked up and snuck into his pocket. Experimentally he rubbed a little on his hand and decided that it felt goopy and a little sticky. But he still glanced behind him and dropped a quick kiss on his wrist, to see what it would feel like. 

He decided it felt nice. He pressed his lips together, relishing the feel.

*****

  
The Zetsus asked, "So how come you love her so much, anyway?" and Obito struggled to explain.

How could he explain it? How good it was, that she was nice to him. That she smiled and laughed and didn't mind spending time with him. Even when he felt stupid and lonely, she always managed to find him, sitting at the bench beside him and rubbing his shoulder.

"It's because you need someone to practice on, right?" Obito said once, because he was sulking and upset and he was sick of everybody feeling sorry for him.

"Yeah," Rin said. "It is." And Obito sulked even more, before Rin giggled and nudged at his shoulder.

"You make me a really good medic," Rin said, and Obito blushed, because at least he was good for something, for once. She smiled at him and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, because maybe then she would look at him. Maybe then she would see.

But he didn't do anything. Instead, he stared at his hands. There was dirt under his fingernails and his knuckles were scratched and bruised.

"Hey," Rin said. "What is it? I can't read your mind, you need to tell me what's wrong."

At the time, he couldn't say anything. Couldn't tell her that all he wanted to do was sink into her chest, that just sitting next to her made everything go away.

  
****

  
This is how it would be if Obito had escaped:

Rin would yell at him for an hour straight as Obito limps and leans on her, the injuries from the boulder keeping him from walking, properly. "How could you be so stupid? You could have died! What were you thinking! You need to be more careful!"

Obito wouldn't say anything, just grin up at her from against her shoulder, and Rin would scowl and heft his weight onto her back, Kakashi following them, quietly. He would be delirious from fatigue and pain and the words would just tumble out.

"I love you," Obito would say, and Rin would just glance at him, shocked.

"Stupid," Rin would say, "You've lost a lot of blood," and she would pull him closer.

  
*****

  
Rin would carry on as if Obito had never said anything, and it wouldn't be until the war was over that things would get really strange. She would avoid him. Weeks would pass and Obito would be miserable. How stupid could he be?

But then one day Rin would inexplicably turn around. She'd show up at his house, a grocery bag of snacks and magazines in her hand, and she'd smile broadly when he limps on crutches and opens the door.

"You're my best friend," Rin would say simply, and she would hand him the grocery bag. "I guess I wouldn't mind if you were my boyfriend." Obito would just gape and stare and stammer stupidly as Rin smiles at him shyly.

***** 

They'd kiss in the park Obito used to hide in whenever he got overwhelmed with how bad he was. It would be the same bench Rin had wrapped Obito's hand.

"It's wet," Rin would say. She'd giggle and wrinkle her nose and Obito would blush and wring his hands in his lap. "Try again?"

"O-okay!" and he would muster the courage to barrel forward, almost head-butting her in his zeal to kiss her properly.

It wouldn't work. Rin would giggles and laugh and Obito's ears would turn bright red, but she would smile at him and take his hand.

When his hard-on flares out from nowhere, Obito wouldn't be fast enough to hide it. Rin would stare at his lap, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry! It just happens! Wait, don't look--"

"Can I see?" Rin would say, and Obito would gape at her for a full minute before nodding, stupidly.

"I, uh. Yeah. I guess..."

He would never run faster to get anywhere, before.

  
*****

  
There'd be thousands of ways to misuse the Sharingan, much to his elders' chagrin.

"Ack! Obito! What are you doing?"

He wouldn't have to ask to know what she'd be seeing: him kneeling determinedly between her legs, a pair of blood red eyes staring up at hers.

"I want to make sure you come," Obito would say, and his feelings would be a little hurt when Rin starts to laugh at him.

"Come here," Rin would say, and Obito would just look at her doubtfully when she motions up at him, "No, dummy, I said come here."

He'd crawl up on her bare stomach before resting his body against her, and Rin would giggle and fluff his hair, cupping his face, fondly.

"The Sharingan is really freaky up close."

"You think so?" Obito would say, and Rin would smile and kiss him, stroking his cheek with the pad of her thumb.

"Can you just...turn it off?"

"But I can't get you to come without it," Obito would say, and Rin would shake her head, smiling at him.

"It's okay," Rin would say, and she'd bite her lip, grinning. "Maybe you'll just have to practice."

His face would split into a smile and she would all but tackle him, kissing and hugging him against her shoulder.

  
*****

  
They'd be kissing on the couch when Rin whispers in his ear.

"I have condoms in my medical bag," Rin would say. Her face would be flushed, red. "Do you want to try?"

She wouldn't have to specify what she was talking about. Obito would blush and nod.

"Are you sure?" he'd say. "Rin?"

She'd nod, then smile, shyly.

"Yeah."

He'd brighten. She'd laugh and he'd pull her into his arms.

  
*****

  
He'd kiss her and she'd be smiling. He'd feel the curve of her mouth against his face, and Obito would open his eyes to see her staring back at him. They'd be lying on their sides, facing each other. The bed would groan and creak in protest as Obito would reach for her, one heavy hand palming the side of her face. They'd kiss again and he'd smile, breaking only to drop small kisses against her lips and the corners of her eyes.

He'd be happy just to hold her. She'd feel warm and good and he'd smile broadly when she nuzzles her face against his chest, her body fitted against his. But then the kiss would deepen and her legs would wrap around his waist, and she'd be grinding her pelvis against him, feeling her strain and groan and rub against his hardness, until she'd be panting into his mouth. They'd break again and she'd look up at him, as if asking him with her eyes.

She'd pull off her shirt with one sure motion, and he'd be rolling her onto her back. She'd be panting and her face would be red, and Obito would see how her nipples would harden into small stiff peaks. He'd kiss her jaw and neck and roll her nipples under his thumbs, making her gasp and writhe and grind her pelvis harder against him.

When he'd try to enter her, she'd squirm away from him. The head of his cock would enter her and it would feel so good, but Rin's eyes would be squeezed shut and she'd be breathing hard from her nose, and Obito's erection would wilt when he realizes that he's hurting her. "Rin?"

"It's okay." There'd be tears in her voice. "Just do it."

"Rin." He'd pull out and Rin would start to cry, fat tears rolling down the sides of her face. "Oh, Rin."

"I'm sorry," Rin would say. He'd gather her close and she'd cry into his shoulder.

  
*****

  
It'd take a full month before they're able to lose their virginity.

First it'd be one careful finger, probing her entrance. He'd use his Sharingan this time and Rin wouldn't stop him, wouldn't seem to notice because her eyes would be squeezed shut, shaking a little at the intrusion. After a few times she'd be used to his fingers and tongue and pretty soon she'd be able to come when he fingers her. It'd be only then that they'd try again, slowly, Sharingan on and watching her face for even the smallest flicker of pain.

There wouldn't any. He'd carefully slide up inside her.

"Rin?" He'd peer down at her, overwhelmed with how good she feels and shaking with effort not to thrust too soon.

She'd open her eyes and nod.

He'd give her one small, experimental thrust, and her mouth would pop open. He'd stop, afraid he's hurt her.

"Do that again," Rin would say, and her lips would tug into a smile.

He wouldn't be very good, the first time. The first time would be an uncoordinated jumble of arms and legs and slapping, sloppy thrusts. But she'd be wet and good and it'd be all he could do from babbling how happy he is when he comes inside her.

"Silly," Rin would say, and she'd reach up to cup his face.

He'd never be happier than at this moment. She'd smile and her eyes would be soft when she reaches out to trace a soft line down the side of his cheek. The failures of his life - emptiness, uncertainty. Loneliness and an aching need for approval - would begin to crack and fall away, the surface of scars washing out to colorless marks, because he'd know she loves him, too.

  
*****

  
It didn't happen this way.

There were a lot of things Obito wondered about. In the darkness of Madara's cave, Obito stared up at the ceiling and wondered what it would feel like. What it would feel like to hold her, to have her lie against his chest and bury his nose into her hair.

He found out, several months later: her body, limp and unmoving. Her hair, sticky and matted with warm old blood.

******

Deidara was drunk. It was the first time Obito had seen his supposed partner this way: face red, slightly slurring his words, Deidara laughing and throwing marble-sized bombs that burst like firecrackers in the small tavern. If Deidara were even the least bit sober, Obito would shake his head and implore _Deidara-sempai_ to please watch where he's throwing things, they could hurt someone! But Deidara was drunk and Obito dropped the act, watching his partner with hooded eyes.

Around him, people were laughing. Civilians were carousing and rough-housing, and the sounds of laughter gathered and rose like waves. Deidara had disappeared and Obito was alone now, watching with a predatory stillness as the men in the tavern laughed, loudly.

There were women standing outside the tavern, leaning suggestively and soliciting the patrons of the bar. Their faces were painted garish, bright colors, layers of heavy make-up caked in the small lines of leather skin.

He has never touched a woman. In the early years after Rin's death, he had been angry and disgusted with his younger self, who openly fantasized about her as if she were something disposable. A hole for his perverted pleasure. At the time, it had made him angry and ashamed.

But that was then, and the years that passed had all but numbed him completely to the goings-on of normal men. Pain. Love. Hurt. Fear. It was all inconsequential to him. Even Rin's death was strangely divorced from the rest of himself, that wounded, worried part of himself an unnecessary distraction.

"What's with the mask?" someone said, and Obito looked up, saw the woman leaning against his table.

He glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight, and Obito didn't need to sleep. It was one of the few advantages of having Hashirama's cells implanted in his body, which let him move without eating or sleeping for days on end. He was grateful for this: the rare times his human half needed rest, he was plagued with nightmares, broken bodies and dead gray eyes.

The woman was leaning forward, jutting the tops of her breasts in full view of his gaze. Normally he wouldn't even entertain the thought of doing something so pointless. Sex didn't interest him. Though he would use his body as a tool if the situation so called for it, sex in and of itself was useless to him.

But the hour was late, and there was nothing for him to do but wait for Deidara and stew in his thoughts. He had a few hours to kill, and he would be lying to himself to say he wasn't at least a little bit curious.

He came to a decision. He reached for a satchel of coins.

The clock ticked. In the darkness, he stood motionless; she knelt in front of him on her knees. He was limp but she was doing her best, bobbing her head and swallowing, obscenely.

He felt nothing. Not even as he felt her massaging his flaccid cock, running her thumb under the wilted underside of his glans before gamely sucking him again.

What was he doing? Around him, moonlight puddled like spilled milk, and Obito pushed her back, tucking himself back in.

"What?" The prostitute looked up at him, frustrated.

"That is enough," Obito said, and he zipped up his clothes. "Your money is on the dresser. I do not require anything further."

"But you didn't get off."

His jaw tightened. He strode across the room, pulling open his bag.

"Look," the prostitute said, standing. "I can't read your mind. You need to tell me what's wrong."

Obito stopped.

"What did you say to me?" Obito said. The prostitute blinked, uncertainly.

"I said, you need to tell me what you like. If I'm doing something wrong--"

"Get out," Obito said.

"Wait, what?"

"Leave," Obito said. "Now."

And the prostitute stared at him one long moment, then snatched up the satchel of coins, pulling on her clothes.

*****

The day Kakashi beat him, he was humiliated. It wasn't enough that he lost the match. They jeered at him, and Obito knew, as he always did, that he was an outsider, that he didn't belong.

He was sitting at the edge of the river when Rin came out from nowhere. Wordlessly, she sat beside him, not saying anything and waiting for him to speak.

"I'm a failure," Obito said, finally. He looked at his hands; bruised knuckles, the scrap of bandage tied around his arm. "They're all right. I shouldn't even be here."

Across from them, the setting sun was a blaze of colors. Burnt out reds and bright orange streaks turning in every direction. "That's not true," Rin said, and the streak of golden light caught her face. The wind rose, and she moved a hand to push back her hair. "For what it's worth, I'm glad that you're here."

He looked up at her. She was looking out into the horizon, hair stirring in the soft breeze.

Nohara Rin. The only person who was kind to him. The only one who cared if he was there or gone.

Eyes filled with a warmth he couldn't explain, and Obito hunched into himself, pulling his goggles down and pulling his knees to his chest. Wordlessly, Rin rubbed soothing circles against his back until he leaned against her, squeezing his eyes.

Now, years later, he sat alone in the dark, hands clenching into fists. There was a tightness to his neck and shoulders and a burning behind his good eye.

There was a scar on his left arm from when Rin had stitched him, years ago. The scar was raised and jagged, and quietly he ran his fingers over the pearly bump, remembering. Gentle fingers curling around his wrist, a soft halo of blue chakra, healing him. A soothing warmth easing the pain.

In the next room, Deidara was snoring. Quietly, Obito adjusted his mask and looked out the window, at the bones of naked trees, and at the darkness that was streaked with the light of a solitary moon.


	61. rise and fall, part 2

It never stopped raining in Amegakure. Over buildings, the rain sluiced down in large sheets, coating the outsides of the spiraling towers and the watchgates like a wet curtain; on the ground, the rain fell in harsh slants, bouncing off puddles on concrete and seeping into the soil.

Outside the village, the rain was cold, sharp, and relentless. Obito stood, looking out across the landscape as the rain seemed to fall with a deliberate weight: his back was soaked and the fabric of his cloak dripped, and his feet squelched in puddles as he stepped forward. 

Rin watched. Hovering just beside him, she could see him tilt his face upwards, the hood of his cloak falling back. The choppy spikes of black hair poking out from beneath his hood grew slick with rain, and she was surprised when he slowly pushed up his mask; lifting his face, he let his eyes close, sighing quietly as the sides of his scars grew wet with rain.

He hated wearing the masks. Rin knew. Knew how every time he put it on, he'd have to fight the sudden feeling of suffocation, will his heart to slow its rapid beating. 

The rain was a respite. Raindrops dripped down the sides of his face, and he took in a deep breath, one last lungful of cold, clean air, before pulling on his hood and adjusting his mask.

He was alone, as he often was. Rin watched with him, waiting for the clouds to part and the winds to rise, and for the coming storm to finally wash over.

*****

The tavern was crowded and noisy, and Rin followed Obito uncomfortably as he and Deidara sat at a table in middle of the room. Deidara was drunk and laughing and Obito was sitting next to him, clearly irritated. Rin watched as he cast a thin genjutsu over his errant partner that made him want to go to bed.

Rin sat next to him. She always felt uneasy sitting close to him when he was with others, preferring to watch him from a higher vantage point - the top corner of a room, on the ledge of a windowsill. Now she sat next to him and waited while Obito stared silently at the table, his Sharingan glittering from the eyelet of his mask.

"What's with the mask," someone said, and Rin looked up to see a prostitute leaning in front of him.

Rin stood up from the bench, backing away slowly as the prostitute sidled up next to him and started negotiating. 60 ryo for a blowjob. 100 for sex. Rin watched as Obito contemplated a minute, then reached to the side for his bag.

Rin knitted her fingers together, following them. She couldn't leave - something was drawing her here and she had to stay and watch him. Apprehensively, she floated behind the two of them as they walked heavily up the dark wooden staircase, tried to stay out of the way when the prostitute stepped inside and Obito shut the door with an authoritative click. The prostitute stepped forward to unzip his pants and Rin averted her eyes.

The room was dark. Against the wall, Rin could see the movement of shadows. Could hear soft wet sounds and the rustling of cloth. Her cheeks burned and if she were alive she would run out from the room as fast as she could. And then,

"That is enough," Obito said, and Rin turned to see him zipping up his clothes. "Your money is on the dresser. I do not require anything further." The prostitute straightened.

"But you didn't get off."

Rin watched as Obito strode across the room, pulling open his bag.

"Look," the prostitute said, standing. "I can't read your mind. You need to tell me what's wrong."

Rin sucked in her breath. Obito stopped.

"What did you say to me?" Obito said, and Rin could feel the potential for violence coiling beneath the surface. The prostitute blinked, uncertainly.

"I said, you need to tell me what you like. If I'm doing something wrong--"

"Get out," Obito said.

"Wait, what?"

"Leave," Obito said. "Now."

And the prostitute stared at him one long moment, then snatched up the satchel of coins, pulling on her clothes.

The door closed. Obito stood in the center of the room, shaking.

He was breathing hard, and it wasn't until he pulled off his mask that Rin could see the rims of his eyes were dark and shining. She sat on the bed and watched as he strode in front of her, then sat down heavily beside her.

Silence. Obito pressed the heel of his hand to his good eye, sniffing and dry-swallowing as he gritted his teeth and furiously tried to calm himself. He never let himself cry outright. Tears slipped down the sides of his face and he swiped at them angrily.

Rin rested her cheek against his back, leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt him relax. He took a shuddery breath then straightened, putting back on his mask.

Her eyes were filled with compassion as she watched him stand.

He stepped toward the window. Rin stepped behind him, sliding an open palm across his back, and he bowed his head as if he could feel her.


	62. A Ghost's Life

She was perching on top of the refrigerator, watching as Obito got ready. His movements were precise, exact, and Rin watched as he did the same thing he did every morning.

He woke up. Took his medications. Got dressed, black turtleneck beneath the green flak jacket. Went to the kitchen to grab a piece of fruit or bread before bounding down the metal stairs.

There were slight variations - sometimes Obito would skip breakfast altogether - but Rin followed him anyway. Time moves differently as a ghost, and Rin experienced Obito's days in flashes. Flash, and he completed another mission. Flash, and now he was back home.

Time slowed when Obito didn't have missions.

Rin sat in the corner of Obito's bedroom, watching him as he slept. It was 5 AM, but he had an alarm set for 6 even though he had no missions. Rin's chakra built. It was just enough to flick the alarm switch off. Other guardian spirits could directly intervene in their charges, shape their fates and mold their destiny. Rin was satisfied if she could help Obito with his alarm.

Obito stirred. Slowly his eyes blinked open, only to see the clock blinking with a cheerful "8:02 AM" on the digital display. Rin watched as he started to panic, but then remembered he had nothing to do today. She giggled to herself. If she were alive, she'd roll over in the bed next to him and hug him.

Bathroom. Brush teeth. Medications. He padded barefoot to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, which was empty except for a random energy drink and a bag of gummy bears Kakashi had given him. He had absently tossed them in there, which Rin found cutely endearing. Obito looked at the bears and berated himself for being stupid, though, and he plucked the candy from the shelf and tossed it in the trash.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, and Rin could hear the entire monologue to himself: should he go out and get food? Could he wait? He didn't want to leave the apartment today. His eyes still hurt from the last mission, so he can't kamui there. This is annoying.

Rin glanced around the kitchen. Floating upwards, she slipped through the closed cupboards and drifted through the cabinets, until she found the old box of granola bars he had shoved in with the dishes when he wasn't paying attention. Like a cat whose whiskers could tell the faintest change in the vibrations in the air, Obito turned, saw the spot in the cabinet, and remembered the granola bars.

Rin preened. She was a good guardian spirit. Obito flipped over the box and saw the expiration date had passed two months ago.

Her consciousness faded, and she experienced the rest of Obito's day in flashes: cleaning the bathroom, scrubbing the shower and the sink. He had a pile of laundry and no other clean clothes, and Rin followed him as he poured laundry detergent directly into the washer without measuring it. She blinked and two hours passed, he was sitting on the floor going through a stack of mail and unpaid bills; blinked again and it was nighttime, he was standing in his kitchen. She watched as Obito sighed annoyed at his empty refrigerator.

He was in the convenience store again, looking at various cups of ramen. "Get fruit," Rin said, and her voice was the barest whisper. Obito looked up, her voice subconsciously reaching him. He walked over and palmed a couple bananas, setting them in his basket, before grabbing a few cans of beer.

Rin frowned. Obito paid, and she watched as the cashier bagged Obito's breakfast and dinner - a few bags of snacks, two bananas, and the beer, and Rin kicked herself for not telling him to pick up a bento or at the very least a few riceballs. Obito paid, bowing politely at the cashier and picked up his bags.

She wasn't experiencing time like flashes now, she was fully inhabiting the space beside him. Rin followed him as he walked down the block, as he turned the corner to the darkened street and then the rusty metal stairs to his apartment.

Shower. Change of clothes. Peel the banana. Rin watched as Obito went through all of those, before lying sideways on the couch.

This was strange. Rin's consciousness usually would ebb around this time, when Obito didn't think about anything, just stared listlessly at the TV. Rin hovered. Obito stayed still a moment, then got up with purpose. He walked up to the little shrine he had in the corner of the kitchen, then set down a banana as an offering to her.

She could hear his thoughts perfectly: _I should probably cut this for her_ , and he picked it back up again. She watched as he meticulously peeled the banana and cut up a few slices, setting them on a little dish to put in front of the shrine.

Rin smiled. He was always leaving little offerings for her: a wildflower, plucked furtively while he was pretending to be Tobi in the Akatsuki; a small book of matches that the tavern had decorated with curly hearts. Even as he set down those offerings, he'd silently berate himself because they were stupid and random, but Rin could sense the earnest side to him too, because he was sure Rin would like them.

She watched him get ready for bed. Turning off the light, he curled on his side and pulled up the covers, staring out at the darkness of the room. Wordlessly Rin joined him in the bed and curled up around him.

There were a few surefire times she knew Obito could feel her: at the moment before he drifted off to sleep, and then again when he started to wake. Not fully conscious, he could take in the subtle sensations of Rin's spirit lying next to him, the weight of her arm draped around him. She'd curl her body up against his back, pressing her face to his shoulderblades, and she'd feel him shift and exhale in response. Sometimes, he'd hug a pillow, as if unconsciously wanting to hug her in his sleep. She had been doing this for years, she had long ago stopped feeling self-conscious. He'd start to drift to sleep and she'd squeeze him, hear him quietly sigh and cuddle him.

You work so hard, Obito, Rin thought, and she nestled against him.

I wish I could do more to protect you.


	63. Scenes from a Resurrection

This is what happened when Rin was resurrected.

First, there was blackness, a rushing of cold air, and then the sudden lurching of her consciousness, her eyes popping open and her body lying beneath a blanket on a table in the middle of the basement. Rin gasped, then lurched upright, dizzy with the sensation that she was no longer air, she was physical and real, she was touching the surface of things. Her non-existent heart was beating rapidly in her chest as her newborn lungs struggled to breathe.

A moment passed, and Rin looked around. The last thing she remembered, she was hovering above Obito - he had been feeling lonely and Rin was sitting next to him when she felt her spirit being inexorably pulled in this direction.

Footsteps. Rin turned and saw the door fling open, a shirtless Uchiha with active Sharingan. "Kid, what the fuck?!" he said, and Rin whipped around and saw a little girl hiding behind the table.

"Oi," Izuna said. He snapped his fingers. "Oi. Oi."

Rin threw a glance back at Izuna, bewildered. Izuna scowled. "Looks like you just got resurrected," Izuna said. His eyes narrowed. "Let me get you some pants."

"...pants?" she said, and she realized she was naked. She looked at him, confused.

"Panties. Underwear. Whatever."

"Who are you?" Rin said again. "Where am I? What's going on? I thought I was dead," Rin said, and Izuna huffed, irritated.

"I told you. You were resurrected." Izuna gestured to himself. "I'm Uchiha Izuna. I died about 200 years ago and I was acting as my brother's guardian spirit. I got resurrected just like you did. Just wait a second and I'll get you some clothes."

Rin crossed her arms, shivering. Izuna disappeared outside the room.

In the corner, the little girl popped her head out. "Hello," she said. She stepped toward Rin, shyly.

"Hi," Rin said. The little girl timidly stepped forward. "My name is Rin, what's your name?"

Outside, Izuna cursed as he rummaged through Hashi's underwear drawer.

*****

"...there isn't any clothes?" Rin asked, after Izuna threw her a towel.

"I can't look in that stupid bitch Senju's closet," Izuna said. His eyes narrowed. "It's embarrassing."

"Oh."

The Izuna stepped beside her. "You're gonna feel like shit the next few days after being fully resurrected," Izuna said. He handed her a cup of tea, waiting for her to adjust her blanket. "It'll take a bit getting used to having a body. You might even forget you can't go through walls."

"You speak as if you have experience," Rin said. Izuna nodded.

"I resurrected myself five years ago."

*****

"Do you want to play with my dollies?!" the little girl asked. Before Rin could answer, the little girl jumped up and ran toward her bedroom, grabbing all her favorite toys and dollies to show her. At Rin's feet, a baby cruised around the furniture while a little boy toddled toward her.

"Oi," Izuna said to the toddler. "Don't pull at that." And he tugged the toddler away before he could pull off Rin's towel.


	64. meteors, part 2

"I cannot accept this," the Mizukage says.

Terumi Mei and her advisors sit at the edge of the table, the other kage watching as Obito sits flanked by Tsunade and the village elders. Obito lowers his head while the Mizukage points accusingly.

"He has committed war crimes against our village," the Mizukage says. "He committed any number of atrocities as the leader of the Akatsuki. He was the one who drove Yagura-sama mad."

"He was already mad to begin with," Tsunade says.

"That may be," the Mizukage says, crossing her arms. "But we cannot have diplomatic relations with Konoha if Uchiha Obito is made its figurehead."

The other kages glance at each other uncomfortably.

"Idiots," Tsunade says. She strides down the hallway, her haori flapping, while Obito follows after her. "In all my time gambling, I know when someone is bluffing. They depend on Konoha for our wealth and our aide. No one will be severing diplomatic relations."

"Tsunade-sama, I don't think this is right. I think you should give the title of Hokage to Kakashi," Obito says.

Tsunade stops. "Are you questioning my judgment?"

"No, of course not, however--"

"Then I want you to stop talking about Kakashi." Tsunade starts walking again. "He is too lackadaisical for this post, anyway."

Obito collapses in his room. This whole thing is terrible. He wishes he could just curl up and die, or at the very least just stay in his apartment.

He flops onto his bed, then rolls over, hugging a pillow. If Rin were here, he'd put his head in her lap and wail about how stupid he is. Why the hell did he think he could be Hokage in the first place?

He knows why. He reaches over to the nightstand and plucks the school picture of Madara's daughter. She had given it to him at their last training session. In the picture, the little girl is beaming wide, the background black with gaudy colored lasers crisscrossing behind her. A typical kindergarten picture.

There is a subtle shift in the air.

"Why is it you're always here when I'm at my lowest?" Obito says without looking, and Madara frowns behind him in distaste.

"I do not understand," Madara says. "You once held the world in the palm of your hand, and yet you lie there whimpering while lesser nin trample on your legacy."

"I have no legacy. Just a trail of bodies and people who rightfully hate me."

"And you are bothered by this?" Madara says. Obito pulls the pillow over his head.

"Go away."

Madara sighs. "As much as I'd like to correct you for your mistakes, that isn't the reason why I'm here."

Madara walks around the bedroom. He stops at the dresser, looking at Obito's photos.

"Nohara Rin is currently living in our basement," Madara says. He picks up a picture frame, studying it. Obito lifts his head.

"Rin?"

Madara sets the picture frame down. "Apparently my idiot wife worked out a modification to the resurrection jutsu, and my little girl used her Rinnegan to activate it."

Obito sits up. "Rin is alive?"

"She is indeed, and she's asking for you."

Obito takes a breath. He shakes his head. "I don't want her to see me like this," Obito says. 

"Oh? What's this? Are you really that cowardly now? I have to say I'm disappointed," Madara says, frowning at him. "Well. No matter. The message is delivered. I can understand why you wouldn't want to show yourself. If I were as pathetic as you, I would want to hide as well."

Obito doesn't look at him as Madara crosses the threshold. The air settles and he's alone again, sitting in the dark of his bedroom.


	65. Nohara Rin, part 2

"Sensei!" Rin says, and Minato beams at her.

"Rin!" Minato says, and he hugs her. Rin breaks away, smiling wide, and looks over at Kakashi.

"Kakashi!"

"Rin."

They hug. Rin gives Kakashi an extra hard squeeze, and Kakashi smiles happily beneath his mask.

At the periphery, Obito hovers. Rin laughs, chatting happily with her old teammates. He watches her brush her hair back as she tells them how she was resurrected. It's only then that she turns and sees him.

"Obito," Rin says.

Obito takes a breath. "Rin."

Rin beams at him.

She approaches him gingerly, the way she would a stray cat. She smiles kindly at him. "Is it okay if I hug you?"

Obito's throat is dry. He nods.

Rin smiles shyly at him, then wraps her arms around him. She feels soft and warm and it surprises him. Timidly, Obito rests his arms around her waist, and Rin pulls him close, squeezing his chest and resting her cheek against his ribs. "You're a lot taller than I remember," Rin says. She beams at him. "When I saw you at the void, you were a lot shorter."

Obito smiles shyly at her. Rin smiles back at him.

Kakashi clears his throat. "Sensei and I are gonna head back," Kakashi says. "You two should catch up. I'll talk with you later."

*****

He looks different than she remembers. Broad-shouldered and lean, he moves with a quiet grace that is surprising to her. As a ghost, she didn't quite appreciate how much he had physically changed. "So," Rin says, smiling. "Is that tight black shirt you're wearing so you can show off your body? Did you pick that outfit on purpose?"

"What?" Obito's eyes widen. "It- no. It's just what I had that was clean..." Obito fumbles. Rin clasps his hand and laughs.

"I'm kidding. Relax." She shakes him playfully by the elbow. "I'm here. You wanted to talk to me, right?"

He gives her a small smile. "Yeah," he says. They each fall quiet. Their footsteps echo in the street as they walk, a few couples chatting and laughing as they walk past them.

"Obito, I--"

"Rin, I--"

They stop, then laugh awkwardly. "You go first," Rin says. Obito shakes his head.

"No, you," Obito says, smiling. Rin smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Behold. My idiot apprentice," Madara says. He is watching them from the eyes of a Sharingan'd bird, using a genjutsu to share the image with Hashi. "That woman has been watching over him for the last few decades, she is ripe for the taking. But my idiot protégé has no game."

"Ooh, look at you with the colloquialisms," Hashi says. Madara motions for her to be quiet. They listen as Rin starts speaking.

"It's so strange being here. Having a physical body. I feel like I've been watching you for years. Maybe because I have been," Rin says. Her eyes flick upward, meeting his.

Obito hesitates. "Rin, I--"

"Yes?"

Obito lowers his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Rin."

His face is drawn, and he seems to steel himself, as if Rin could reject him at any moment. Gently, Rin touches her hands to his chest, stepping forward.

"Try me," Rin says, smiling.


	66. That Night (mature)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-explicit PIV sex

She laughs and lands clumsily on her back on his mattress, throwing her arms around him as he clings to her, breathing hard and thrusting roughly. The nightstand rocks and the little picture frame of their genin team shakes, and Rin laughs, smiling and kissing him.

He gasps and pulses hard inside her, before collapsing exhausted on top of her body. Rin smiles and kisses him. He beams ruefully as she grins and fluffs his hair.

"So," she says, smiling at him. "That was your first kiss, right?"

Obito laughs, embarrassed, and drops his head against her shoulder.


	67. Earlier

The night was quiet. They walked down the street, side-by-side. She was standing close enough to him that she could brush her knuckles against his hand.

"Rin, I--"

"Yes?"

Obito lowered his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Rin."

They stopped walking. Rin stepped in front of him, lightly touching the front of his chest. "Try me," she said, smiling. Obito lifted his eyes.

"I've killed people."

"I know," Rin said, softly. "I was there when you killed them."

Obito blinked. Rin rubbed his arm. "I think I was haunting you," she said. "It's hard to piece everything together, but I know you talked to me, and I know I saw the same things you did."

Obito furrowed his brow. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know. I just remember you crying, how upset you were when you held my body. And...I think I stayed to make sure you were okay." Rin looked up at him. "I'd been watching ever since."

They started walking again. Rin looked up at the shops, at the street lights above them and their reflection in the store windows as she spoke. "Sometimes, I think I'd lose consciousness. I think I'd go where everybody else goes, but then you'd light a candle for me and I'd come back. So whatever you have to tell me, it won't surprise me."

Obito didn't look at her. "I'm sorry I made you watch that."

Rin smiled at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

"What was with that weird Tobi act, when you were in the Akatsuki? You looked ridiculous," Rin said, and Obito laughed, embarrassed.

"I...I think I was just blowing off some steam," Obito said. He blushed, rubbing his neck. "Madara is such an imposing figure, I just wanted to do something stupid." And then a thought occurred to him. His eyes widened. "Rin, did you see me when--"

"When what?"

"When I--" A flush. He didn't look at her.

"Oh," Rin said, realizing. "When you did things in private?"

Obito covered his face in his hands. "Oh god...."

"No, it's alright, I-- I mean, Obito, you called my name sometimes..."

"Oh god, don't say anything, I'm so embarrassed."

Rin laughed and kissed his shoulder, looping her arm around his elbow and pulling him close.

Obito jerked back, surprised, and Rin realized what she did. "Oh," Rin said. "I'm sorry--"

"No, no, I was just surprised--"

"I won't do it again," Rin said. "I'm sorry, I've been following you for so long, I forget I'm pretty much a stranger now, there's no reason you should be comfortable with me."

"I am comfortable with you. It's like you never left." He blushed, not looking at her. "I just thought you had feelings for Kakashi?"

"That was twenty years ago. Everyone in our class had a crush on Kakashi." Rin smiled. "I watched you for twenty years. You're pretty much my family."

"Rin?"

"Yeah?"

"May I kiss you?" Obito asked. She saw him steel himself, nervously.

Rin beamed at him. "Yeah," she said. She pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. Obito blushed. Rin giggled and wrapped her arm around him.

"That was your first kiss, right?"

Obito nodded, not looking at her. "I'd...I'd never been with anyone...."

Rin rubbed his back. "Well what about that prostitute in Iwagakure?"

Obito's eyes widened. "You saw that?!"

"I, uh. I pretty much was in the same room...."

"Oh god." Obito covered his face again. "I'm so embarrassed." Rin laughed, hugging him.

"Your apartment is close by, right?"

"It is." Obito hesitated. "But Rin--"

"I'd like to, if you want to." Rin smiled softly, not looking at him. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been wanting to touch you for so long."

Obito took in a breath. "Rin." Rin spun on her heel to face him.

"Come on," she said, smiling. She grabbed his hand, pulling him forward.


	68. That Night, part 2

He can't stop kissing her.

Years of pent-up want, of crippling loneliness and a desperate need for comfort, spill over, and Obito clings to Rin the rest of the night. They kiss and she cuddles aggressively against his chest, because she knows how lonely he's been.

"Rin?"

"Yeah?"

Obito searches her eyes, faltering. "I love you," he says, softly. Rin smiles and snuggles against him.

"I love you too."


	69. Two Uchiha (end)

It is nighttime, and Obito leans against the balcony. It's dark outside except for the scattering of lamps lighting the courtyard below him, but Obito's eyes adjust, until he can make out the shapes and textures in the grayscale around him. He has been Hokage for two years now, but he still isn't quite used to it, the pomp and circumstance that come along with the office.

There is a sound, the soft footfalls of a shinobi walking behind him, but Obito doesn't need to turn to see who has come up to him.

"I heard she is pregnant," Madara says. He leans against the balcony next to him. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Obito keeps his eyes trained on the horizon.

The wind rises. For a moment, the two Uchiha stand, Madara's hair and Obito's purple cassock moving in the wind. They stand together the way they stood tethered to the Jyuubi all those years ago, working together but not trusting each other.

Madara turns, about to leave, when he stops, thoughtfully. "A word of advice," Madara says. His back is toward him. "If the midwives offer to take your newborn, let them. It will be your last night of uninterrupted rest."

Obito makes a small noise, almost like a chuckle but not quite. "Noted."

He disappears swiftly into the darkness. Obito lingers a moment, before going back inside to check on Rin.


End file.
